Raped policewoman



For many men, at some point in their lives, there is something they will do anything to reach. In Athletes train for years, oblivious to their surrounding, in an effort to win a Olympic medal. A young lawyer will spend countless hours and money on a political campaign. And a mountain climber will take risks of life and limb to scale heights never before reached.

Others will go to immeasurable lengths to find success in their chosen endeavors. Witness Melanie Cooper, a 25-year-old college graduate who, frustrated by every-day secretarial jobs, seeks adventure and challenge through a career in law enforcement She is obsessed with a goal of becoming successful in a field long dominated by men. But her obsession leads her not only to violate society's codes, but also her own principles.

RAPED POLICEWOMAN shows the reality of obsession, how destructive it can be to the individual and those around him. It is admirable to set a goal and make sacrifices to obtain it, but is it admirable to go to any lengths for it?

The story of a modern woman, programmed to win, to take what she wants -- a novel exploring pert of life as it is today.



CHAPTER ONE

The sun was going down as I yawned and forced myself out of bed. Most people get up when the sun comes up, but here I was making my way into the kitchen for my first cup of coffee at sundown. I had been doing it for almost two months now and my body still hadn't adjusted. By the time I finally did get used to it the bastards would change my schedule and I'd be right back where I started, futilely trying to catch up on the hours I had lost.

As I sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of discount instant coffee that tasted like boiled eucalyptus leaves, I asked myself for the thousandth time why I was putting myself through this shit. Here I was, a 25-year-old woman with a degree in sociology and an IQ of 134, keeping the hours of a night watchman.

You probably think I'm a dog, a regular bow-wow. Well, forget it. Everybody who's seen me says I'm attractive and I have to admit it's true myself: the bulges I see in men's trousers when I walk by don't lie. I have long lustrous raven hair, high pointed tits as firm as marble, long sinewy legs that love to wrap themselves around things, what everybody says is a terrific looking ass, and a cunt framed by a luxuriant growth of silky black pussy hair that can fuck all night. Right now, if I had a normal job, I'd be getting off work and undoubtedly some great looking stud would be taking me out for drinks and dinner and later we'd hit the sack at my place or his and his hot steaming prick would be pumping up my throbbing pussy.

So what was I doing sitting in a drafty kitchen in a ratty bathrobe choking down a cup of lukewarm instant mud waiting to go drag my ass around the crummiest parts of the city with a bunch of people who loathed everything about me that theoretically made me attractive and in general hated my guts?

To prove something, I guess. Despite the advice of almost all my friends, I went ahead and joined the police force and became a policewoman.

After I got out of college three years ago, I was ready to conquer the world. I had so many plans and dreams and was ambitious to realize my objectives and make something of myself. But all that got me was a series of job interviews where they asked me how fast I could type and a lot of ogling looks. I probably could have capitalized on the latter and fucked and sucked my way toward prosperity, but I like to feel that I've got some integrity and am the kind of girl who screws for fun. Somehow, the idea of sucking off some old fart's shriveled up cock or letting some overweight businessman practically crush me while he sticks his puny prick in me turns me off. I like my men strong, willing, and ready to go all night to satisfy me, and I like to pick them. I don't want them picking me like I was some dumb little cunt in a whorehouse without enough brains to do anything but live by her pussy.

Well, anyway, what my stubbornness got me was a succession of jobs, each one worse than the last because I had terrible references from being too independent and invariably telling my boss what he could do to himself -- which got me fired. When the newspaper carried an article indicating the police department had to start hiring women for regular line duty, I decided to apply for a job. If I was qualified, they'd have to hire me, and I was sure I could pass any test they gave me and do as well as or better than any man.

None of my friends like cops, and my favorite professor from college -- with whom I'd kept in close touch -- surprised me when she told me my friends called them "pigs". "Melanie," Professor Higgins said, "there's not one element of what you were taught 'should be' in your courses here at the university that you will find working with the police."

"Then you think I shouldn't apply," I replied.

"Let me put it this way," she said. "Although you won't find one thing that you were taught 'should be', you'll find plenty of what you were taught 'should not be'."

"Meaning?" I asked, puzzled.

"Meaning, that if you want to look at it that way, it's a challenge. You'd be going up against the exact opposite of what you were taught and what I presume you believe in."

Professor Higgins had been my only woman professor of any consequence. In addition to teaching me in the classroom she was my faculty advisor, and had remained my friend after graduation. I respected her opinion the most, but she seemed to be giving me conflicting messages.

"You're telling me it's going to be awful, but that I should do it anyway. What kind of advice is that?"

"It's the only realistic advice one intelligent woman can give another," she said. "Women, historically, have been oppressed, but now some doors are being opened to them. Not all the way, but far enough to get inside if you want. But at this stage of the game, it's not going to be easy. No matter what you do, you'll have to fight all the way, but at least if you pick something where the cards are all out on the table, you'll know what you're up against."

"Like the police force?"

"Like the police force."

"First, when you called them pigs, I thought you were suggesting I run away from it like everybody else has. Now, you seem to be saying the opposite. Are you telling me to join?"

"You know me well enough, Melanie, that I would never tell you to do anything. You have a fine mind of your own, and I expect you to use it. You have no trouble getting the most out of your body, now it's time to do the same for your brain."

It was certainly clear what she meant by her last remark, for if anybody should have known about the capacity of my body to excel, it was Professor Higgins. From the moment I met her, I knew she was a remarkable woman, and my respect for her soon turned into sexual attraction, so confident and radiant was she. She was in her late thirties, a tall and graceful woman with an attractive body. She was a no-nonsense kind of person and didn't beat around the bush, which is something I've always admired. One afternoon we were in her office and she said, without blinking an eyelash, "Melanie, I'd like to make love to you," and I answered "yes" without hesitation. We embraced right there in her office, her mouth quickly finding its way to my sopping cunt as I sat in the chair with my spread legs propped up on her desk while she ate me from below. After that, we had gotten together once or twice a month, a delicious addition for me with all my activities and sexual liaisons.

One of the things I liked about Professor Higgins, in addition to her beautiful cunt, was that she wasn't possessive and didn't hold our sexual attraction over my head.

When our conversation about joining the police force ended, I realized that if I had as much potential and intelligence as she seemed to think, I wouldn't run away from the challenge the opportunity presented. She wasn't telling me to become a policewoman, but was encouraging me to utilize my God-given talents in a tough world that didn't give anybody anything for nothing.

"I'm going to apply," I announced.

"It'll be rough," she said, then smiled. "But you'll show them."

I was so elated by her confidence that I jumped from my chair into her arms, kissing her fully on the lips, my tongue darting hotly into her mouth. I could feel her knee gently shove into my crotch as we soul kissed, my panties becoming utterly drenched with a rush of frothing pussy juice that creamed out of the boiling recesses of my cunt.

We were in her office at the college, just like the first time we had made love, and she was prepared for me, as always. I found she was not wearing panties. Her cunt was unsheathed and waiting droolingly for me as it always was when she was expecting one of my visits. With trembling pleasure, my fingers slid stickily along the pulsing flesh of her hairless cunt lips, and I entered her pussy with a probing, anxious finger, sending it all the way inside her throbbing cervix as her pelvis undulated wildly from my fingerfucking.

When we made love in her office it was always on top of her desk, an oversized mahogany antique shined to a mirror gloss. You could see yourself in the reflection, and as we threw ourselves on it, our skirts bunching up at our waists and our faces buried between each other's thighs, I glanced over and felt my heart thump and my cunt clench even tighter at the image of my mouth kissing her turgid pussy lips and my tongue hungrily lapping away at her stiff, oversized clit.

I was on top with my cunt looming over her face, my legs straddling her mouth so her experienced tongue could expertly lash and tickle the folds of my aroused pussy. Slowly I lowered myself onto her until my cunt completely buried her face and I could feel her eating me, her teeth, tongue and lips producing the most maddening combination of suction and friction against my pussy imaginable.

My tongue was like a corkscrew in her fantastic, shaved cunt, exploring every inch of skin, darting from her bloated, erect clit, down the slick cleft formed by her pulsating pussy lips, and then into the sticky inner depths of her fucking canal, shooting my tongue inside the frothing slit like a hard cock, my nostrils filled with her sweet, musky scent.

At last, we started coming simultaneously. I thought her rock-hard thighs were going to choke me as she crushed them against my face, now totally buried in the yawning, creaming gash of her throbbing cunt. Meanwhile, I was doing the same thing to her from the top, my thighs seizing her face and forcing her mouth so far between my legs that her lips were enveloped by my hungry cunt, drawing her into my ravenous pussy toward a shuddering climax. We felt an orgasmic burst of energy that seemed to come from our bodies as if they were one. The waves of pounding fury inundated our bodies until we were reduced to quivering panting wrecks on top of her desk. The pussy juice and saliva that we had whipped into a creamy froth drooled from our spent cunts as we collapsed, totally exhausted from our shuddering orgasm.

CHAPTER TWO

I was working the night shift out of the 69th precinct. It was located in a rough neighborhood, a slum noted for its lawlessness. After I had worked there a couple of weeks, I realized the police contributed to the lawlessness as much as anybody. Most of them were on the take, and a lot of them took advantage of the multitude of prostitutes.

At first I had been shocked by some of the things I saw, but in a very short time I grew accustomed to things that only shortly before I would have been appalled at. But I adopted an attitude of live and let live, primarily because I was having enough trouble gaining acceptance as a woman on the force without being a bluenose too. So, I started growing into a habit of looking the other way, hoping, I suppose, that the others would be more likely to accept my presence. Some of the things I saw continued to inwardly shock the hell out of me, but I just trained myself not to show it. Of course, the longer I did, the less they shocked me.

I walked into the station and the first person I saw was Desk Sergeant Moon, a big, red-faced man, whose head resembled his name. His face was so red that it looked like it was on fire and the busted veins fingered him as a heavy boozer. In fact, I quickly learned that that was why Sergeant Moon was assigned to the desk instead of being on patrol -- he was frequently half-juiced while on duty and they didn't want him screwing up things on the street. Even though everyone knew what a misfit he was, he still got more respect than I did, because I was a woman, and everybody laughed when he referred to me as Dickless Tracy behind my back.

Of course, hypocrite that he was, he gave me a big hello when I walked into the station. His greeting was a thick, practically slobbering one, indicating to me that he was in the cups. I walked past him, making little attempt to conceal my disdain for him, giving him only the most perfunctory hello. I almost jumped out of my skin in outrage when I heard him smirk behind my back with reference to my unfriendliness, making no attempt to conceal his voice, "Ol' Dickless must be on the rag this week. Usually she can't keep her hands offa me."

Incredible, just incredible, I thought. But what was even more incredible was that his voice was loud enough for everyone else in the immediate vicinity to hear and they all laughed at his tasteless remark, including a prisoner handcuffed to a waterpipe.

"What're you laughing at, you scum?" I said to the prisoner.

When he started stammering, all of my frustration welled up inside me and I impulsively kicked him in the groin. He doubled over, instinctively trying to grab his nuts, but his hands were shackled and the cuffs gouged into his wrists and he shrieked in pain.

Well, I was safe there. You could do anything short of killing a prisoner at the station and you wouldn't get in any trouble since the only witnesses were cops. But I still felt uncomfortable about what I had done because I realized that it was the same thing one of the other cops would have done.

The big news in the station that night, as it had increasingly been lately, was that there was a rapist at work in the area. Not that any of the cops gave a shit about any of the women in the neighborhood being raped -- they usually laughed and made dirty jokes whenever the report of the latest rape was read. There was concern now because the papers had gotten hold of the story and built it up, and the public had become scared, thinking, because of the papers' scare tactics, that there was a mad rapist terrorizing the whole city.

I felt I could make a real contribution toward capturing the rapist, and was willing to act as a decoy victim, and as we fell into ranks for our assignments I waited expectantly. As it turned out, as usual, I was passed over for anything of importance and assigned to a patrol car with a crew-cut cop named Reinhart who looked like a Nazi soldier. We were to go driving around looking for prostitutes to harass. Reinhart was being assigned to this chicken-shit duty because he had just come off a suspension for beating up suspects who later turned out to have done nothing.

When we got to the patrol car, I opened the door and slid in behind the wheel, thinking I'd take the first turn driving.

"Hey, girlie, whaddaya think you're doing?" Reinhart growled.

"What's it look like I'm doing?"

"What it looks like you're doing, I don't like," he said, approaching the door and leaning his fat florid face against the opened window.

"You want to drive first?" I asked, not bothering to conceal my disgust with his childishness. "Go ahead. I'll take the second shift."

"No way," he said. "I'm takin' all the shifts."

"Well, that's very chivalrous of you," I said sarcastically, "but I'm willing to do my share."

"Forget it," he said, opening the door and shoving me to the other side of the car. "I ain't ridin' in the car with no fuckin' woman driver. Everybody knows about Goddamn woman drivers, and, besides, if anybody seen me I'd get laughed offa the force."

What do you say to an idiot like that, I thought, and let it pass. So we drove around the red light district with Reinhart driving and me sitting on the seat as far away as possible from him, stewing in my juices, my resentment building by the moment.

It was a typical night along hooker row. Cold as hell, but that didn't stop dozens of girls from peddling their wares out in the open in the slightest of clothing. Reinhart cruised by them slowly, an obvious gleam in his eye. He could have arrested any of them if he wanted, since they were breaking the law right and left, paying little attention to the police. The patrol car seemed, in fact, to incite their open pandering and soliciting. So, after dozens of trips around the same block, I was surprised when Reinhart suddenly stopped the car and said, "There's the one I'm gonna get, that nervy bitch. I'm gonna nail her ass."

How could he single one out, I thought, they all looked alike, and all were equally guilty.

"Which one?" I asked.

"Just shut up and stay here in the car," he said and jumped out. And the Goddamn bastard took the keys with him, as though the second I was left alone with the car I'd immediately wreck it. Sonofabitch.

Reinhart went up to a girl and then disappeared with her into a seedy-looking hotel. Meanwhile, I sat there cooling my heels in a double-parked cop car with no keys in it. I never felt so conspicuous in my life. Since the bastard took the keys, I couldn't turn on the heater and it kept getting colder and colder. I was wearing the standard policewoman straight skirt and the cold air targeted between my legs no matter how hard I pressed my thighs together. I thought my crotch was going to freeze. The police radio kept squawking and once when a call came for cars in our district I was forced to reply, hating myself for covering for that big tub of guts, Reinhart, and saying we were on an important stake out and my partner was apprehending a suspect.

Finally, I got out of the car, slammed the door, and walked toward the hotel. I had to make my way through a throng of hookers who seemed to have assembled just to block my path.

"Whatsamattah, honey," one of them said, "your boy friend stand you up for a real woman?"

"What do you mean by that?" I snapped.

"One that got a pussy between her legs instead of a billy club," she replied as though she had a license to be as insulting as possible.

I impulsively shoved her in the face and snarled, "Any more lip out of you and you'll get the book thrown at you." I whisked into the hotel just catching a muffled "Fuck you," as the door closed behind me.

The night clerk remembered the red-faced, crew-cut cop after a lapse in memory when I reminded him that I was a cop too and would bust his ass if he didn't cooperate. "Room 5-C," he told me, and when I found it, I didn't bother to knock. When I opened the door the room was dark and I couldn't see anything, but I heard things as clear as a bell.

Low moans were coming from the room, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of creaking bedsprings. I took the penlight off my belt and snapped it on in the direction of the noise. The small stream of light shined directly on the most salient aspect of what was taking place, and while I wasn't surprised, I gasped out of sheer rage that Reinhart would leave me in that cold police car so he could come up here and fuck.

The light clearly illuminated his stiff cock pumping in and out of a hairy, flexing cunt. The bastard was fucking some bimbo on my time. I was so furious that I had to stand there and watch it like I had to make sure I was really seeing it. The soft white skin of his ass drooped over his hairy balls which were tight from the massive erection he was busily slamming into the waiting whore he'd picked up off the street. It was obvious they were old friends because I heard him admonishing her, "C'mon, Flossie, wiggle your ass. You're a pro. I know you can do better than this. Make me come, you tramp."

When he spoke, I instinctively lowered the beam, and sure enough, she did exactly as she was instructed. Her clenched ass began wiggling in intense vibrations on the sagging mattress, sending her cunt thrusting upward so that it virtually swallowed his prick all the way up to his balls.

"Oooooh," she moaned, "you got me wrong, Reinhart. I just want it to last as long as I can. I don't want you to come too quick and pull out. I want your big, stiff prick in my cunt as long as I can get it. Oh, fuck me, baby."

As I stood there and watched, something about it got to me in spite of myself. Maybe it was because the only thing I could see distinctly was his cock piercing her hairy, juicy cunt. As the seconds passed, I associated what I was seeing with Reinhart's ugly mocking face. It was just two turgid organs in the act of fucking, the prick sliding so wetly in and out of the moist pussy that I could hear his straining shaft squishing against her grasping cunt. I suddenly felt the fabric of my panties cling wetly to my matted cunt hair and realized that my pussy, previously bone dry from the cold air, had become sopping wet.

I couldn't believe that I was so susceptible. But the cream flowing between my legs and the tightness between my thighs wasn't my imagination.

I intended to remove my probing hand, but when the flashlight highlighted his cock suddenly withdrawing from her cunt, I kept my hand on my pussy and began reflexively massaging what was now my steely hard clit, a button of flesh throbbing with every rapid beat of my racing heart.

I instinctively watched his cock. His prick leapt over her torso and stopped, twitching before her cavernous mouth.

"Oh, Jesus," she moaned, "come in me. Come in my mouth. Stick your big prick in my mouth."

"Swallow," he commanded.

But before he could put his cock in her mouth, a huge glob of cum spurted from the turgid knob and flew stickily into her face, sliding viscously down her nose, a syrupy blob dangling in mid-air before she swept her tongue up and hungrily flicked it off, burying it in her slurping mouth.

Now his cock was spewing cum as though it would never stop, bathing her face with steaming cream. Penetrating the milky mask was the pink dart of her tongue, greedily transferring huge globules of jizz from her face into her mouth with ravenous gulps.

By now, I was so turned on that I was rubbing my clit with reckless abandon, feeling the tiny knob of meat growing more erect by the second until it resembled a miniature prick in my kneading fingers.

Before he could finish coming all over the hooker, I slipped out of the room and beat it down the stairs and out of the hotel, back onto the street. I knew that in this neighborhood anything goes, and just as there was a block reserved for prostitutes, around the corner there was a short stretch devoted to what was known as the chickenhawk trade. Chickenhawks are middle-aged men who crave the cocks and asses of young boys, who in turn peddle their cocks and balls to men.

Around the corner I stopped at the first one I saw. By now I was creaming so hotly and copiously, I was sure the thin fabric of my panties must have been dissolved by the foaming discharge from my pussy. But when I looked at this kid and saw the bulge in the crotch of his jeans, a new wave of effluence spilled from my cunt and I could feel it running down my inner thighs. I was sure that if I didn't make my move immediately I was going to leave a pool of pussy juice right there on the sidewalk.

"Come here with me, kid," I ordered him, and like the hookers, he was in no position to say no.

He came tentatively toward me and I grabbed him forcefully by the wrist and dragged him with me as he muttered in a voice that cracked because he was so young that it hadn't quite changed yet. "Whaddaya want with me, lady -- I mean, officer?"

I immediately guessed that he was a runaway from some small town in the Midwest -- that was one of the few parts of the country where they raised their kids with enough respect to call cops officers. Funny, though, I didn't think what kind of respect he would have for me when I had finished with him -- all I was interested in was getting that bulging prick out of his pants and getting its knobby head and stiff shaft into my mouth and cunt, spraying me with its hot, sticky cum.

There was privacy in an alley, so I dragged him in there, feeling far too horny to go through the delay and hassle of taking him to a hotel room as Reinhart had done with his whore. Once we were shielded by the darkness and the brick walls on either side of us, I lost no time in shoving him up against the wall and reading with pleasure the expression of fright on his pale face.

"Pull it out," I commanded.

"Wha-what're you talking... talking about?" he stuttered.

Impulsively I reached to my side and undid the snap on my holster and pulled out my .38 special and pointed it right at his groin. Just so he would get the point, I shoved the barrel against the lump in his crotch.

"You know what I'm talking about, sonny boy," I snarled. "Now let's see it or I'll blow you to kingdom come."

His trembling hands dropped below his waist and fumbled with his fly, trying desperately to undo the buttons on his Navy-style jeans before he found out whether I'd make good on my threat to splatter him against the wall.

My strong-arm tactics seemed worthwhile when I saw his young prick. It was a beauty; a long, slim graceful arc you generally find only on boys. My mouth hungered to taste it, and my cunt foamed for the quivering cock.

"Drop the pants," I ordered.

I wanted to see it all; the young muscular legs, the hard, slim thighs, the curly hair of his crotch and his turgid cock and balls.

He dropped his pants and stood there, naked from the waist down, shivering in the cold night air. As I saw him tremble from the cold, I couldn't help saying, "Don't worry, I'll warm you up. Just stand still."

His eyeballs practically bugged all the way out of his head as I approached him and he realized at last what I was going to do to him. I wish I could have seen the expression that followed as I kept the gun trained on him, using the other hand to steady his cock while I dropped my head on it, completely swallowing it, feeling it cram hotly into my constricting throat.

I never met a man who could hold back when I sucked their cock, and this boy was no different. Immediately, his hips began gyrating and bucking in a thrusting, rotating fucking motion as I sucked him off, satisfied that already I had given him more pleasure than he had ever gotten from all the middle-aged businessmen who had blown him combined.

My free hand cupped his balls, and I felt the smooth, hairless skin as his prick stabbed repeatedly into the spongy tissue of my throat, the shaft of his cock completely filling my mouth.

I was driving him crazy with my mouth as I put my lips, tongue, teeth and throat into full erotic play, sliding back and forth along his shaft so that in one instant his entire prick would be buried all the way into my throat and the next instant only the swollen head would be in my mouth, my tongue virtually fucking the slit at the end of his cock as though it were a miniature cunt. I dove down on his meat again, catching his foreskin and working it with maddening friction with my lips and teeth.

He may have been a well mannered boy whose sordid life was no fault of his own, but in a couple of minutes I had him reduced to a quivering mass of putty. "Oh, my God, lady," he cried, then corrected himself, moaning, "Oh, officer, suck me, suck my prick. Turn my balls inside out. Oh, sweet Jesus."

I could feel his cock swelling even more and knew that he was on the verge of coming. I pulled him out, not wanting him to come in my mouth but in my cunt, bathing my insides with a coat of hot sticky jizz that would squish satisfyingly in my pussy the rest of the night. Then every time Reinhart started to get on my nerves or started to treat me like shit, I'd just press my thighs together and feel that secret load of adolescent cum inside me and be confident that I could hold my own with any man on the force.

"Back against the wall, motherfucker," I snapped, and gave him a little help by jabbing my gun barrel into his hard gut.

The force of my shove threw him against the bricks and slightly buckled his knees, sending his prick shooting almost straight up in the air, which was just the perfect position for what I wanted. I hiked up my skirt and grabbing the totally soaked crotch of my panties, ripped them to shreds, and then straddled his loins, lowering my seeping, open pussy over his stake-like prick, the hairy sides of my frothing cunt gripping his shaft as the stony knob of his cock slid between my dripping pussy lips.

Oh, God, his cock was unbelievably hard, even more so than I had anticipated, almost as though it had a bone running through it. Instantly I felt his prick surge through my cunt so far that it felt as though it was all the way into my womb.

I shoved my crotch down even more, hoping his cock would just keep going until it was all the way up to my throat.

With the position in which I had him trapped I had to do all the work, which was fine with me. I stared at him straight in the face, pointing my .38 special right between his baby blue eyes as we fucked. Down below, I gyrated and twisted and humped and bumped, coiling down on his imprisoned prick like a corkscrew.

I knew from the increasing frequency of his groans and the increasingly hot swelling of the fleshy cock up my cunt that he was about ready to come, and I couldn't wait. I pushed down with one last slobbering gasp and felt his cock thrust up me an extra inch before it exploded inside me, totally filling my pussy with spurts of scalding jizz as though he were pissing inside of me.

I could feel my orgasm begin and climactic waves overwhelmed me, starting in the recesses of my cunt and quickly taking over every pore and fiber of my body. I came and came again, multiple orgasms reducing my body to a spasmodic wreck as I shivered and shook, impaled on the spear of his cock.

Finally, it was over and we fell off of each other, a thick pool of come and pussy juice forming on the ground between us. He was piled in a heap against the wall as I caught my breath and pulled my skirt back down over my gaping pussy, excitedly mindful of the fact that I would be riding around the rest of the night with no panties on, my cunt free to bathe without restriction in the after juice of the boy's beautiful cock.

I may have been a woman luxuriating in the afterglow of an indescribably exciting fuck, but I was still a cop, so with his cum sloshing in the warm basin of my cunt, I kept the kid covered with the gun and forced myself to speak through clenched teeth.

"All right, kid, I guess you know that I'm giving you a break if I just walk away from this and neither of us says anything about it to anyone. Otherwise you may find yourself in juvie doing some hard time for assaulting an officer. That is, until they figure out where you're from and ship you back to your parents."

He seemed oblivious to every word I said, the reaction to a perfect fuck expressed on his handsome young face. I holstered my gun and left him there, his young cock so strong that it still hadn't gone completely down after the sucking and fucking I'd given it. It twitched indomitably between his naked loins, the moonlight causing the slick deposits of cum and pussy juice to glisten on his crotch and thighs.

That sonofabitch Reinhart was waiting in the patrol car when I got back, so burned up that smoke was practically coming out of his ears.

"Where've you been?" he growled.

"In the ladies room," I answered primly.

"You coulda held it."

"I tried," I said, "but you left me out here so long I couldn't. You know what they say, when you've got to go you've got to go. It's the same for a woman as for a man."

"Yeah, sure," he muttered.

"Did you apprehend your, uh, suspect?" I asked as though I was the most naive cluck in the world.

That brought a smile to his ugly stormtrooper face.

"Oh, yeah, my suspect," he grinned, as though he was talking to someone so mentally retarded they resided in a basket. "She was a real bad one. I had her cornered but she got away. But don't worry, I'll get her one a these fucking days."

I raised an eyebrow at his language.

"Scuse me," he said, a chivalrous pig to the end, "one a these days. Pardon my language, I keep forgettin' you're a broad... I mean, of the female persuasion."

"Don't mention it," I said, and pushed my thighs together and enjoyed the delicious bubbling of cum inside my cunt that would get me through this night with my sanity intact.

CHAPTER THREE

The squad leader was Lieutenant Hardisty, naturally called Hardass by the cops at the station and not really behind his back, because he was the kind of so-called man's man who liked to be thought of as tough, and actually went around encouraging the use of the nickname.

Actually, from my experience, what passes as a so-called man's man is some guy who's so fucked up, he thinks that his brains are supposed to be where his balls are and spends all of his time going around trying to prove how macho he is, which is probably a cover-up for how much he digs other guys.

I'm not saying Hardisty was a fag, but I do know that his whole life seemed to be wrapped up in the 69th precinct and the men who worked there, and if there was anything else that interested him, it certainly never showed.

Needless to say, when I came to work at the precinct, Hardisty greeted me with about as much enthusiasm as he had for a steaming pile of fresh dog shit. It was obvious that he thought the sanctity of the police, which he regarded as only the most extreme religious fanatics regard the Catholic Church, had been violated by the presence of a woman -- or "slit", as he invariably referred to them -- among the ranks, and that the only way it could be restored was by purging me from the ranks.

It was apparent I was never going to get a break from Lt. Hardisty -- it killed him that I wouldn't call him Hardass like the others -- and that was the cause of a great deal of my frustration because he made the assignments at the start of each shift. As long as he and I were working at the same precinct, I would continue to get the lousiest and grubbiest assignments, like that crummy business with Reinhart shaking down whores.

I stood in the ranks at the start of another shift waiting for Lt. Hardisty to throw me the moldiest of shit after he had given all the choice details to everyone else, meaning that I would have to spend eight hours in the company of whomever was the precinct leper that night -- a dishonor automatically conferred on whomever had to be my partner -- in the grubbiest kind of circumstances.

It wasn't just the grubbiness that bothered me. After all, I was aware that there'd be a lot of unpleasantness when I joined the force. But my assignments, in addition to being grubby, were meaningless. I could never see the point in harassing whores, or shaking down kids with a joint in their jeans, or trapping queers, or some other fucked up thing like that.

And while I was hauling my ass around from one pointless assignment to the next, the biggest case in months was going on right in the 69th precinct. The rapes continued unabated, and had increased in frequency. By now, latching onto a good thing, the news media were screaming for the police to catch the rapist. The word was out: the 69th precinct had to collar the rapist or heads would roll, including Lt. Hardisty's.

Now, if you had a sexy-looking policewoman among your ranks you'd think, if you had an iota of sense, that she might be of use in trapping a rapist who so far had escaped every other tactic for capture. That is, if, like I say, you had an iota of sense, something which was not in evidence at the 69th precinct. So while every other kind of scheme was hatched to try and catch the rapist, I was left cooling my heels on one dumb-ass thing after another.

Tonight, as usual, when the rapist had struck again, Hardisty read the report of the latest assault. The description of the victim was accompanied by the usual guffaws and snorts of laughter by the men in the ranks who were always amused by the straits of any victim in a sex crime. Then Hardisty came to a conclusion, which was something new.

"The victim," he read, "states that if she should see the perpetrator again, she would definitely be able to identify him."

"What a break," somebody in the back row said. "What's the motherfucker look like? This'll give us an excuse to pull some bastard off the street and shake him down to see if he's the right dude. Jesus, I hope it's a nigger."

"Keep your shirt on," Hardisty said with a sigh, which with his customary affectation seemed more like a growl. "First of all, the guy's white, and second of all, I think it's going to be kind of embarrassing for you to go hauling guys off the street for identification based on what she recognizes."

"What're you talking about?"

"The victim stated," he read, "that although she did not see the perpetrator's face, as he was wearing a ski mask, she definitely would be able to identify another portion of his anatomy. She stated that the perpetrator's organ was the largest she had ever seen and that she would never forget it."

"I believe," Hardisty added, looking straight at me to see if he could embarrass me, "that the victim was referring to the assailant's penis."

How could I resist?

"Oh, you mean his prick," I said.

If anyone else had said it, the ranks would have collapsed with laughter. My saying it, however, was a blasphemy on the order of calling God a turd.

"Miss Cooper," Hardisty said primly, "I'll thank you to watch your language. Stand warned that such gutter slang is certainly not worthy of a police officer regardless of his sex. We are, after all, public servants and are supposed to set an example."

I wanted to give the cocksucker the finger but managed to remain still, except for nodding my head.

The assignments he gave were usual. Everybody else was sent out to find the rapist while I was given a partner named Mullins, nicknamed Blimpo who was so fat that he couldn't catch a one-legged purse snatcher.

"Oh, yes," Hardisty said at the conclusion of his assignments, "Cooper and Mullins will stake out the bathroom at the Whammo Burger joint on Cleveland Avenue. We've had some complaints about some perverted activity in there."

Well, what else? The Whammo Burger joint was a set-up for the police. They had long ago drilled a hole in the wall so they could watch whatever went on inside the john. They'd picked that place because it gave them an excuse to hang around since the carhops all had big tits and wore skimpy uniforms, and the management gave cops free burgers. If you wanted the cops to pay attention to queers in your john, you had to meet those two requirements -- big tits and free burgers. They were willing to let me go tonight because the rest of the force was out after medals of valor for catching the rapist.

When we got there, Blimpo didn't waste any time fleeing the scene. He told me that he'd spotted something suspicious out in the parking lot when I knew full well from scuttlebutt I'd overheard that there was a carhop named Bubbles who was a cop groupie. She gave free blow jobs to the boys from the 69th precinct, even if they were as fat as a hog. Boy, I thought, as he waddled out of the janitor's closet adjacent to the john where the hole was drilled, she sure must like cops.

What do you do if you're virtually trapped in a room the size of a closet that happens to have a hole drilled through the wall overlooking a can? Unless you want to chew on a mop, you look through the hole.

I didn't have a long wait. A teen-age boy came in and sat down in one of the stalls facing the hole, giving me a perfect view. I didn't expect anything since he looked clean-cut enough, dressed in jeans and a sweater and a letterman's jacket with medium-length, neatly combed hair. However, when he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down and sat on the toilet, I was startled to see that he had a full erection, his long prick standing out at least eight inches from his loins. Obviously he wasn't in there to take a crap, not with a stiff prick like that.

His hands flew to his twitching cock, and while one of them began massaging the tight sac of his balls, the other gripped his prick and began sliding back and forth over the swollen knob at the end of his dick.

I could hear him moan as he worked his cock into a state of turgid frenzy, the glistening head quivering. If it had been a cat, it would have purred as he stroked it, in one instant concealing the flange with the bunched up foreskin and then drawing it back so that the throbbing head almost glowed.

I've been around, but somewhere along the line I'd missed the sight of a teen-age boy beating his meat, and it immediately excited me. I had no control over my cunt as I felt it instantaneously dampen the crotch of my panties in a widening circle of sticky moistness. I tried to shut it off by pressing my thighs together, but all that did was accelerate the sensation so that I felt as though I had a giant viscous bubble expanding inside my pussy.

As I watched him continue to manipulate his cock, I slipped my hand down my skirt beneath the elastic of my sopping panties and began to manipulate my cunt in tandem to his masturbating. Immediately, I felt the thrust of my clit against my fingers, surging like a bullet from the top of my pussy.

Slowly I rubbed my cunt, one finger on my engorged clit and the other fingers sliding down the slick, mushy valley of my pussy lips before pushing them into the wet marsh of my fucking canal. My cunt muscles instantly seized my welcome fingers, engulfing them with clutching damp tissue and inundating them with velvety hot lubrication.

Through the hole I could see the boy on the toilet stroking faster now, bringing his beautiful young cock to the bursting point, and I could envision the steaming globs of milky jizz that would soon be spurting into the air as he came. Jesus, I could do more than just picture it, I could taste it. There's nothing like the taste of cum, the combination of sweet and sour that drives you wild as it pours into your mouth in a volcanic gush when you've got your lips wrapped around a hot, throbbing, ejaculating cock.

But, Goddamn it, this job wasn't any bed of roses, and I was determined to be professional, even if I did want to go down on his cock. So I reluctantly pulled my hand out of my steaming cunt and waited with disappointment for the frustrating spectacle of watching him loft all of that delicious cum onto the grimy floor when it could be shooting into my sperm-hungry mouth or cunt.

However, just when I had restrained myself, something unexpected happened. I saw the door to the bathroom burst open and a big, ugly guy with a couple of days' growth of beard sauntered in. He wore too-tight Levi's with a big beer belly falling out in front of him, straining his grimy T-shirt; he looked a lot like what I imagined most of the cops at the 69th precinct must look like on their days off.

Immediately, as though he could smell it, the intruder went right to the stall where the boy was jerking off. Without saying a word the guy slapped the boy's hands away from his prick, and when the kid protested, cuffed him hard across the jaw with his open hand, sending the kid sprawling backward against the toilet, his startlingly stiff prick shooting straight up in the air.

The big guy lost no time in pushing his face down on the pulsing cock. Even from behind the wall I could hear the slurping of his heavy lips as he engulfed the kid's prick with his ugly, slobbering mouth, pushing all the way down to the balls that had turned me on.

I hustled out of the janitor's closet and around the corner to the bathroom, bursting in with my pistol cocked and pointing at the back of the boy's assailant.

"All right, cocksucker," I barked, "Let go of the boy or there's going to be some ventilation in the back of your T-shirt."

The assailant released the boy's cock as I had commanded and wheeled around toward me, foaming bubbles of spit drooling from his cringing mouth so that he resembled a mad dog.

"Whaddaya think you're doin' in here, cunt," he slobbered, "this is the men's can. This ain't none a your business. You got no right to be in here."

"This gives me the right to go anywhere I want," I said, tapping my badge.

"You ain't nothin' but a cunt," he snorted.

"But I'm a cunt in cop's clothing," I leered back at him, "and as far as you're concerned, that makes all the difference in the world."

"Shit on that, I'm gettin' the hell outta here."

He moved bulkily toward me, so cumbersome from his enormous belly that I should have easily been able to avoid him and put out his light with a quick thwack from the butt of my revolver. But, just as he rushed me, I caught a glimpse of the boy sprawled on the toilet and became momentarily hypnotized by the sight of his full, erect cock. With the vision of his beautiful teen-age prick searing into my eyes, I lost my concentration just long enough for the fat guy to throw me off balance and push by me, trundling out the bathroom while I remained transfixed by the sight of the boy's long, graceful cock.

When the man was gone, my eyes not moving an inch from their bead on the delicious-looking prick, I asked the boy if he was all right.

"Yes, ma'am," he whimpered, obviously frightened out of his wits, then added, "Aren't... aren't you going to chase him?"

Chase him? If I had ever had any such intention, the idea had completely flown from my mind. Right now, as a matter of fact, everything had been purged from my brain except the vision of the long, red stem of the twitching cock and the throbbing, purple knob at the end of it that was so engorged with hot blood that it seemed as though it would explode.

I immediately decided that if it was going to explode, it was going to do it inside of me, and with a boiling onslaught of scalding cum.

I couldn't have chased anybody the way I was incapacitated by the paralysis between my legs as the walls of my cunt clenched like the fingers of a fist, lusting to wrap around the pumping cylinder of a prick.

I moved slowly toward him. As I approached him, I could hear the squishing of my cunt, so filled was it with the sopping effluence of my arousal.

He was rendered speechless as I neared him, his face a mask of mystification, unable to anticipate what was going to happen next.

Finally he spoke, pleading, "Please... please... ma'am, please don't get me into trouble. I didn't ask that man to suck me. I was just horny and came in here to beat my meat by myself. I was making out with my girl friend and she wouldn't let me go any farther and I just got horny. I came in here because I thought my nuts were going to explode. Honest, that's all. I've never done it before. I'll never do it again."

So that was it, I thought. Some little prick-tease had got it up for him and then shut everything down, leaving him high and dry. She was probably out in the car waiting for him, smugly munching on a Whammo Burger. It didn't seem fair to me that such a beautiful prick should go unsatisfied. I thought about all the times when I was growing up that my cunt started to foam and my clit got hard as a rock and there was nothing but my fingers to relieve the pressure and tension between my legs when stimulation from another person could have made me happy.

I quickly made up my mind what I was going to do. His mouth dropped with disbelief as I lifted my skirt and straddled my legs on either side of the toilet, lowering my dripping crotch down over his pulsating cock. Just before I neared it, I pulled aside the sopping crotch panel of my panties so he had a clear shot at my hungry, open cunt. Then I sat thrillingly on his standing prick, the hard knob at the end battering between my drooling pussy lips and the slick shaft sliding squishily in after it, filling my insides with his swollen cock.

It was totally my play and I greedily took advantage of it as I slid up and down on his dick like it was a fire pole. It felt delicious as I pumped on it like I was riding a greasy hobby horse, bobbing up and down with delirious abandon. Whatever the kid lacked in experience, I made up for with my carnal enthusiasm, moving my hips and pelvis more than enough for the both of us, working his prick inside me like a Roto-Rooter in a clogged sewer.

As we fucked, I felt more and more expansive, feeling as though a mere straight fuck wouldn't be enough for me tonight. Feeling his prick swell even more inside me, I realized that I didn't have long to make any alterations because my young stud was just about ready to start spewing his hot jizz all over the place.

I pulled upward, feeling his prick pop wetly out of my sopping cunt, and took a good look at his magnificent cock before I grabbed its slick sides to steady it and then shifted my dripping, hairy crotch just a few inches forward so I could center his cock on my cunt.

His pulsing cock felt hard and strong as I pressed it against the puckering ridges of my asshole, lowering myself down easily so I could accommodate at least eight inches of prick -- and I intended to have every inch in my unlubricated asshole. Ahh, but the pain was worth it as I worked his dick inside me and felt it push with maddening friction against the tight walls of my ass when I forced myself down on his loins, my quivering ass resting on top of his muscular thighs as I forced his prick all the way up into my bung hole, enjoying a delicious feeling of totally letting go.

As his cock pounded away in my straining asshole, I plunged my hand to my cunt and began fondling the gooey surface of my bulging pussy lips and the stiff protuberance of my hopelessly aroused clit. I jiggled up and down on the stiff prick and simultaneously kneaded my clit, thrusting a pair of fingers inside my cunt and brutally finger-fucking myself.

I leaned forward and closed my mouth over his, shooting my tongue between his teeth and meeting his in a hot oral embrace. Down below, his dick was searing through me as though it were on the verge of splitting me in two while my busy fingers crawled frantically over the sopping ooze of my pussy like maggots over raw meat. I wanted him to come inside of me, filling my insides with an ocean of jizz, the waves of his cum riding me to a glorious shuddering climax.

The tension snapped in him first, his cock branding the inside of my ass like a hot poker as the molten jizz exploded in bubbling fury, filling me with blast after blast of scalding cum.

My entire body was ablaze. The kindling between my legs had erupted into a blazing inferno, and only coming and coming again could douse the fire. I pushed down with all my might on his spurting prick, feeling the river of cum engulf my ass as I clenched the muscles of my asshole like a vise around the root of his cock. His swollen cock shuddered inside me like a vibrating pole as I gritted my teeth and twisted my asshole around on it, making his cock tear inside me like a corkscrew.

Suddenly, all my hard work brought results as a monstrous orgasm at long last overwhelmed me. The darkness behind my closed eyes transformed itself into an erotic kaleidoscope of colors, a palette of bright reds, yellows, blues and purples that drenched my senses with their richness as I fell and swirled, and flew in climactic flight. Then I came down, my body caressed by the soft afterglow of a perfect fuck.

After I had caught my breath I pulled off the stunned boy, and dreamily lowered my skirt after cinching my totally saturated panties in place, their drenched fabric immediately clinging adhesively to the sopping stickiness of my drooling ass and cunt. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, feeling the cum inside me gurgle, and then looked at the boy. The kid still seemed afraid of me.

Suddenly my maternal instinct told me how to alleviate his fear once and for all and I leaned forward and gave him a small chaste peck on the cheek. Immediately he smiled, telling me with his wholesome grin that everything was all right, and I turned around and left the bathroom with a clear conscience.

CHAPTER FOUR

"We've been lucky enough," Lt. Hardisty droned in his obnoxious nasal voice, "to've been chosen as the site for a pilot project funded by our government in Washington."

"Does that mean we're gonna get an airplane?" somebody said, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out whether he was making a dumb joke or he was just stupid.

"No, no, you idiot," Hardisty answered. "This is a pilot project concerning the heavy narcotics trade in this precinct."

"Do you mean out on the street or in the station house?" somebody laughed.

"Very funny," Hardisty dismissed the comment. "This is serious business. The federal government has granted some funds to our department for a special narcotics detection project, and the boys downtown have decided that this is the place where they're gonna try it out."

"Spare us the suspense. Lieutenant, what is it?" someone asked.

"Well, you men may've read about this some in the newspapers," Hardisty said.

If any of them can read, I thought.

"It's dogs, police dogs of course, German shepherds that are trained to sniff out dope."

"Whatta we need that for, Lieutenant?" Reinhart asked. "We don't need no dogs to tell us that every one a these long-haired punks we see around here has got a stash on 'em. If we wanted to, we could go out and bust all of 'em right now and fill the county jail with punks."

"Keep that to yourself, Reinhart," Hardisty said sternly. "We may know that, but the government apparently doesn't, and the boys downtown aren't going to turn down a federal grant for anything, even if it's to install a Tampax dispenser in the squad room."

Naturally, when he said that, everyone in the room looked straight at yours truly, and it took all of my restraint to keep from flipping them the bird and telling them to go fuck themselves.

"I suppose the reason the boys downtown picked us," he continued, "was that, given this area, they knew we wouldn't have any trouble finding some dope and making the project a success. And if it's a success then the department'll get some more money."

"Shit," a cop named O'Hara said. "The boys downtown are screaming for us to catch this guy who's going around screwing... uh, raping all these dames... women, and then they turn around and stick us with some damn thing like this."

"Yeah, Lieutenant, how do they expect us to catch the rapist if we're wasting our time running a kennel?" somebody else asked.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Hardisty tried to soothe them. "Well make every effort to deploy our personnel so that no essential functions will be interrupted. Don't worry, nobody will be taken off the street who's involved in a vital service."

What he was really talking about was that only somebody at the absolute bottom of the pecking order would have to waste their time handling these dogs, and that could be nobody else but me. They'd run out of men they could force to be partners with me, so now they were turning to dogs. Well, at least that removed any doubt as to the status of women in the precinct.

After he had given out assignments for the evening, conspicuously neglecting to give me one, Hardisty said he wanted to talk with me after the ranks broke.

"Patrolman Cooper," he said to me when we were alone, "working with these dogs presents a good opportunity for you to get some ground floor experience that nobody else at the precinct will have. You'll be our dog expert."

"I already am," I muttered, thinking about the mangy collection of partners with whom I'd been stuck night after night.

"What's that?" he said, practically foaming at the mouth in the hope of catching me being insubordinate.

"Nothing, nothing," I said, painfully choking out a "sir" at the end of it.

"Good, good. Patrolman Cooper, because I want you to go into this endeavor with a good attitude. I've noticed that you don't always seem satisfied with your work here at the precinct, and frankly, when an officer is dissatisfied the same dissatisfaction with his work tends to apply to his superiors. Do you understand what I mean?"

"You mean that you agree with me that I seem to have some trouble fitting in around here," I said.

"Precisely, and this is your chance to prove that you're really suited for a law enforcement career," he said sanctimoniously. "If you do well with this assignment it will certainly be reflected on your probationary evaluation which is due soon, and which I, as your immediate supervisor, will be filling out."

As it turned out, keeping the dogs was no big deal. There were two dogs -- both German shepherds -- named Max and Leon by the kennel in Washington where they had been raised and trained. They were each in the prime of their life, and those lives had been devoted to the sniffing out of drugs, particularly marijuana and hashish.

My job was to find something for the dogs to do that would seem to accomplish something without starting a riot in the neighborhood. Consequently, I spent a lot of time around the dogs trying to ascertain their capabilities and limitations and actually became quite fond of them both, quickly getting to know them by their names, Max and Leon.

I thought about a lot of different tactics to make the project look good. I solved the whole problem by going out on the street by myself on my day off and buying a couple hundred dollars worth of grass from a dealer I knew in my neighborhood. The money was out of my own pocket, but it was worth it if I could finally rise above the level at which I'd been stuck so far in my desultory police career. Before I went back to work, I'd cut the grass with oregano, and with the sheer amount of green vegetable matter I dumped on Hardisty's desk they could easily claim the dogs had uncovered thousands of dollars of marijuana, the story would be released to the press and television, and everybody would be happy -- especially me if I finally got a better assignment.

After I had made the buy, I sat in the living room with the dope piled in a heap on my coffee table. Max and Leon locked in the bedroom so they wouldn't go insane from the scent that drove them wild. I had seen them when they were around it and they went nuts, almost like cats around catnip, the main exception being that each of these dogs weighed over a hundred pounds. If they were around somebody they didn't know when they got their noses full of pot, there was no telling what they might do. Around me, with whom they were familiar and trusted, they would still jump up on me and knock me down every time I got up.

I could hear them barking and whimpering behind the door as I decided that after all I had gone through with this assignment, I might as well celebrate its completion. So I reached into the pile of grass and took enough to roll a joint, putting the rest into an attache case I would take to the station tomorrow.

I lit up, took a heady drag, and then leaned back as I held the acrid smoke in my lungs as long as I could. I exhaled with a whoosh, immediately feeling light-headed as I concluded, with some regret, that this was pretty good dope I was going to be turning over to the cops.

A few puffs later and I was really on my way, and by the time the last of the roach was gone, I was totally stoned. I felt free and easy, totally free of the worries that had accumulated on my shoulders from all the pressures of my job.

When I'd decided on smoking the joint I was getting ready to go to bed, so I was dressed in a nightgown, a sheer billowy affair that was almost completely transparent. So, as I glided past the mirror in the dining room, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of my body undulating under the gown, the nipples of my tits seeming to tear through the filmy gauze, and the dark patch of my pussy hair making a bold black triangle between my suddenly throbbing thighs.

I found myself immediately aroused by the sight of my own body. I stood swaying in front of the mirror, looking hungrily at myself, tentatively touching my tits, and when I found my nipples were as hard as marbles, pressing hard against the fleshy mounds of my pulsing breasts.

As I massaged my throbbing tits, I began to shake in columnar spasms, my pelvis bucking in tandem with the shaking and tingling of the rest of my turned on anatomy.

I threw off the gown and stood completely nude before the mirror, hopelessly aroused. I instantaneously found myself with the uncontrollable urge to see inside of me, to examine what charms lay concealed just below the surface of my pink, shimmering ripe flesh.

I took the first thing I could find, a foot stool, and placed it in front of the floor-length mirror, feeling the cheeks of my ass squish on the leather as I sat on it, facing the reflection of my deliciously naked body. Wasting no time, I placed my legs outward, putting each of my feet against the wall as I straddled the mirror, giving myself a perfect shot of my drooling, open cunt, a crimson gash of pulsing flesh fringed by a wild tangle of already sopping black pussy hair. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by its loveliness.

I pulled apart my slick, swollen pussy lips and took a hungry look at my gaping fucking canal, so smooth and fleshy that it was almost pulpy, looking like the inside of a sucking mouth with its slimy red tissue.

Then I realized that I was all alone with nobody to fuck me.

"Or am I?" I whispered in a hush.

I looked around the room. Behind the bedroom door I could hear something. Scratching and whimpering, whining and muffled barks. Max and Leon, could they solve my problem? Did I dare think it? At last, those two dumb dogs might be good for something! I'd make the project a success after all, but in my own way!

I jumped to my feet and fled to the bedroom, feeling my swollen cunt almost burst from the agonizing burden of accelerating discharge as my thighs swished against it. I flung open the door and greeted the dogs with a cry of joy before I literally dove for the bed, landing on my elbows and knees with my ass sticking up in the air, the cheeks of my ass parted so that my frothing cunt was out and open, screaming to be fucked by anything available.

I whistled through my teeth so the dogs would know it was all right to jump on the bed, which they immediately did. They must have caught the lingering scent of the marijuana that still had my head spinning because they were wild, as excited as I had ever seen them, each of them grabbing me with his paws and licking me, sending hot spasms of anticipation coursing through my horny, naked body.

By chance Max jumped on me from the rear, meaning that his furry loins were already rubbing sensuously against the cheeks of my ass and my open cunt. However, he seemed to be at a loss for what to do next. How do you tell a dog that you want to fuck, I thought, and then threw caution to the winds and commanded, "Stick it in me, Max, stick your prick in my cunt and fuck me."

Just so the dumb dog would get the message, I reached behind and fumbled for a moment between his hairy haunches before I grasped what I was craving -- his slippery cock. I was immediately aware that there was going to be no problem about him knowing what to do. God, was it hard! A long, stiff dog prick about six inches of pulsing gristle, as erect and serviceable as any man's. All I had to do was guide the little beauty into my fuck-hungry, creaming cunt.

I gripped the throbbing prick and worked it toward my blazing fuck center. I gasped as I felt his prick begin to jab wetly against the slick lips of my cunt, and then cried deliriously as my hand guided his engorged dog cock between the fleshy portals of my burning pussy and slid it into my fucking canal, immediately clenching my screwing muscles so that the gloriously hard animal member would be lodged in my squishing box for as long as I desired.

Max certainly knew what to do with his stiff prick once he had it inside my squeezing cunt. Max isn't such a dummy, after all, I thought with a sly grin, as he began furiously humping me, a knot in his cock rising as he kept it imbedded in my cunt, as though I would not let it out until it had sprayed my insides with a steaming onslaught of hot, spurting cum. He tightened his grip around my middle and pushed his furry haunches against me so that I could feel his bristly hair tickling the tender skin of my ass and the backs of my thighs as he rammed his prick into me in astounding bursts, penetrating me like a hydraulic jackhammer breaking apart pavement. Faster and faster he jammed his searing prick into me, its tearing head ripping past the confines of my cunt and piercing all the way up my cunt.

I was continuously crying in agonizing ecstasy from the supreme fucking I was getting. But I wanted more, lusting for lewd satisfaction at each end of my throbbing wanton body. Still resting on my elbows, I put my hands forward, beckoning for Leon to come to me. He held back sulkily for a moment, probably jealous that his partner was getting to fuck me while he was being left out. Well, I'd take care of that grievance if only the dumb mutt would give me a chance. My mouth was drooling at the sight of his bristly cock hanging juicily between his flanks.

Finally, he abandoned his aloofness and began inching down from the head of the bed toward my mouth. When he was within reach, I left nothing to chance and grabbed for him, pulling him toward me and plunging my drooling lips over his cock, slobbering all over the column of warm meat as I thoroughly lubricated it with my hungry tongue, feeling his throbbing prick shaft suddenly spring to life in my sucking mouth, filling my oral cavity all the way to my throat with his cock as I deep-throated his delicious tool.

From behind, the thrusting hairy loins of the clutching dog rubbed against the spread cheeks of my ass as his questing cock pierced the sloppy folds of my appreciative cunt repeatedly, beating a tattoo into my innards with his insistent animal fury. Simultaneously I used my mouth to thoroughly drown Leon's ever-hardening cock, feeling its pointed tip jabbing the tender tissue of my throat in glorious pain as I strived to swallow his rigid animal member ever deeper. I wanted it to plunge so far down me I could feel it in my belly, ramming against Max's as he ploughed ever further up from behind.

I knew they were both going to come soon because their whimpering and barking increased, and the thrusts of their hairy loins against my cunt and mouth increased. I felt my cunt spewing forth sudsing milky cream by the seeming pint, so copiously that I could feel it oozing out past the pounding cock that was corking my pussy and slithering down the inner sides of my quivering thighs as I prepared to plunge from the dizzying peak on which I was precariously perched, into the wet abyss of repeated coming.

Max came first, shooting his long, hard cock in me an extra distance that I didn't think he had in him, pressing against some hidden cranny of my body that I didn't know existed that immediately bathed my body in new spasms of ecstasy before his engorged prick finally burst, jetting forth virtual bullets of hot jizz which coated my insides. One spurt followed another as he discharged his endless fountain of scalding sperm up my cunt, turning my pussy into a swamp of steaming cum. My cunt tightened in appreciation, choking its turgid muscles like a noose around the shaft of his erupting cock in order to squeeze out every last drop of precious cum.

In my face, Leon started to buck uncontrollably, feeling his loins starting to explode with divine relief from his swollen cock and plunging down my maddeningly chafing mouth and throat. I utilized all my resources to bring him to the explosion I craved, tickling, chewing, licking and swallowing on his pounding cock with maximum friction, repeatedly working his taut foreskin over the knob at the end of his prick until it could finally endure no more and erupted like a volcano with a molten flow of lava-like sperm that flooded my mouth and throat.

The sensation of the buckets of come shooting up my cunt and the oceans of it filling my mouth and sliding deliciously down my throat sent my body into a nervous explosion. I began to come in one long continuous orgasm that seemed to go on forever, expelling what seemed to be as much creamy juice from my pussy as I had received from the ejaculating dog prick pumping inside of it. My cunt was bathed in a sea of male and female fluids, a bubbling mixture of animal and human sex juice.

Finally it was over and I collapsed into a heap on the bed and rolled over on my back, too tired to even put my legs together as I lay with my thighs spread, my spent cunt drooling openly as a creamy mixture of pussy juice and dog sperm trickled from it, staining the bedspread in a widening circle. I took a long loving look at my gaping, exhausted cunt, and then lay back with my eyes closed as Max poked his cold nose between my legs and began licking my pussy while I savored the final memory of Leon's discharge in my mouth, lolling a viscous glob of sweet dog cum that I had retained over my tongue and teeth, intoxicated by its pungent taste.

I don't know when I finally fell asleep because my dreams were just more of the same, continued visions of my drooling cunt and grasping mouth filled with the sticky discharge from squirting cocks accompanied by endless orgasms. All I know was that when I woke up the dogs were still in bed with me and I was clutching for dear life onto their cocks, and my hands, mouth and cunt were still so sticky from sperm that I squished all over when I finally got out of bed.

It was time to go to work. I felt so invigorated that nothing could intimidate me and I was sure I could lick the world.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Frankly, Patrolman Cooper," Lt. Hardisty said, "you did a good job making that narcotics confiscation with the use of those government dogs. The commissioner's office downtown is very pleased."

I nodded matter of factly. He wasn't blowing any smoke up my ass telling me that. After all, the news of the bust had been all over the front page -- it had even temporarily pushed the rapist back to page two. It was the first time a policewoman had ever made such a score, and the press was playing it up big, meaning that the force was stuck with me now whether they liked it or not. More specifically, the 69th precinct was stuck with me, because the word had come from downtown that I was to be given not only a citation for distinguished service, but a raise in pay grade. And, most important, Hardisty had no choice but to upgrade my assignments.

"I kept my part of the bargain," I reminded him, "now are you ready to keep yours?"

He said he was and told me that I was being assigned to a new partner.

"Who's that?" I asked skeptically.

"Ted Thoransson."

"Never heard of him," I said, beginning to smell a rat.

My dubiousness must have shown because Hardisty immediately took great pains to assure me, "Don't worry, he's not just some ordinary flatfoot."

"Then who is he?"

"He just transferred in here."

"That's my reward, huh, a rookie?" I exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Calm down. He's a transfer to this precinct, but he's not new to the force, not by a long shot. He's a plainclothes detective being sent over here to help us with the rape case."

"But I'm a patrolwoman..."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Hardisty said, looking like it was going to kill him to give me this news. "For the time being you're going to be transferred to plainclothes. And if you do well, it may be permanent. And in the long run, there may be a detective's shield in it for you."

For once I was speechless.

"Are you all right, Cooper?" he said.

"I can't believe you're telling me this," I said.

"Here," he said, shoving a carbon copy of the order from downtown into my startled face. "Now go upstairs and meet your new partner."

Ted Thoransson turned out to be a cop's cop. He was about forty and looked as hard as nails, but unlike most cops, had a glint of a sense of humor in his gray eyes if you cared to look past their surface steeliness. He was the department's ace detective at solving sex crimes, and had on his record numerous citations for breaking up scores of them. His reputation was such that when a precinct was stymied by a series of sex crimes, they turned to Thoransson, confident that he could crack it and get them out of hot water.

The minute I met him I knew he was an unusual cop. He didn't look at me like I was rotten bananas, but actually seemed to like the idea of working with a woman. Jesus, I thought, this guy must be good or they would have run him off the force a long time ago for having such subversive attitudes.

Thoransson carried himself and talked like a kind of hip John Wayne, which is to say that he was rugged and masculine but his mind and opinions weren't off in right field waving an American flag.

"This is going to be a pleasure," he drawled when he met me, sticking out a big, friendly hand for me to shake, never leaving any room for doubt that he considered me his equal.

I was the only person he talked to after we were introduced, leaving all the other idiots at the precinct, who were creaming in their uniforms to try and impress a real detective with how important they were standing there with egg on their faces. Every once in a while one of them would try and interrupt Thoransson and me, but he would cut them short immediately with something like, "If you'll excuse me, I'm interested in hearing Miss Cooper's... Melanie's opinions, because she's the one I'm going to be cracking this case with."

Boy, if that didn't put the bastards in their places.

Finally, Thoransson, or Ted, as I was already starting to call him, got tired of all those toads hopping around his ankles and said, "Let's blow this joint, Melanie, and go someplace where we can be alone and dope this case out."

"Sure thing," I agreed, and we turned and left the rest of them standing there with expressions of amazement.

Ted began our collaboration by giving me a crash course in sex crimes so I would be familiar with the methods of operation and the kind of criminal who commits them, and also so I wouldn't be too shocked by the kind of thing I was likely to run into.

We were at his apartment for some privacy and he walked over and pulled a bottle of brandy off a shelf and poured a big slug of it into a snifter, handing it to me and saying, "Here, have some of this. It'll settle you down for what I'm about to show you."

I downed the brandy, feeling it tickling down my throat and filling my stomach with warmth as he filled my glass again and then handed me a manila envelope.

"What's this?" I asked, opening the envelope and starting to remove the contents.

"Pictures. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and these pictures will explain to you more than I ever could what kind of a person we're going up against. These're sex crime pictures from the files of the Deviate Control Squad. Even the regular cops don't have access to see these beauties because they're so disgusting and far out."

"How come?"

"The boys downtown are afraid that if the regular cops saw pictures like these they'd get so heated up they'd probably beat any suspects in sex crimes to a pulp before they ever got them to the precinct."

"Where did these come from, who took them?" I asked.

"Some of our police photographers took some of them and others were confiscated from the personal effects of sex criminals after they were apprehended. Hold your breath and take a look. I hope you drank enough brandy."

I looked at the pictures, but it wasn't easy as I continuously sipped brandy to keep my equilibrium. They ran the gamut of every kind of sexual perversion you could think of, and some I certainly hadn't thought of myself (fucking a chicken?). Mostly, though, they were visions of brutality, sadomasochistic fantasies come to life in which people inflicted unspeakable tortures on others, almost always centering on their sex organs. There were pictures of cocks bound in rawhide, cunt lips pulled splittingly apart by intricate chains attached to the clit and outer pussy folds, bloody whip marks crisscrossing tits and asses, harnesses that shackled women to such an extent that they seemed to be reduced to gaping bursting cunts and nothing else.

"Being kinky is one thing," I said, shaking my head, "but this violence..."

"That's the hallmark of the sex criminal," Ted said. "That's what I'm trying to get across to you."

"But why do they have to resort to such atrocities, such... surely they could find someone who..." I stumbled, words failing me.

"That's just the point," he said, "you've hit the nail on the head. The world is full of enough different kinds of people, that if they wanted to, these deviates could probably find somebody else who likes the same kind of sex that they do. But that's not all they're after. Getting it the easy way is no fun for them. They aren't happy unless they take it against someone's will. Actually, a lot of the perversions in these pictures might make for enjoyable and rewarding sex if both parties consented."

"I can see what you mean," I agreed, taking a drink from my glass which Ted had just filled again. "It isn't the things they do that's so objectionable, it's, I guess, that one makes the other do it against her will..."

"And his will," Ted smiled.

"You mean?"

"Sure, there're plenty of woman freaks too."

"Wow."

"Well, don't let me stop you from what you were trying to say," he said, moving closer to me on the couch.

"What I was going to say was that I guess it's the cruelty that makes it wrong; the shame of being forced to do that sort of thing."

"Precisely," he said. "The use of sexual aids or paraphernalia doesn't have to be cruel. It can be fun. Almost a breath of fresh air as a change once in awhile from the routine of ordinary sex."

Suddenly the brandy which I had been drinking so copiously hit me and I put my hands to my temples, my face flushing. "Wow," I breathed huskily, "the combination of those pictures and this brandy is some stuff. I don't know if I'll be able to drive home until my head stops spinning."

"Why don't you just lie down here for awhile," he invited. "You relax on the couch and I'll go get something I'd like to show you."

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, Ted was standing next to me with a large cardboard box. My head had stopped spinning from the brandy, but when I looked into the box it started reeling again for a different reason. Inside the box was a collection of harnesses and whips, glistening black corsets and panties, bras with the center clipped out of the cups, chains and shackles, and God knows what else.

"This is stuff I've collected over the years," he said, "evidence from different cases I've worked on."

"How does all this stuff work?" I giggled, realizing that I was drunk and that I couldn't sober up if I wanted to.

"Wanna see?" he winked.

"It would be kind of like research," I tittered, suddenly realizing that I was more than merely plastered. I was turned on from the constant suggestion of sex, Ted's presence, the warming brandy, and the box of kinky paraphernalia, all of which had served to abruptly turn my cunt into a steaming nest of passion as I felt it start to glow between my thighs, turning the crotch of my panties into a sopping rag with a warm discharge of sensual stickiness.

"Here, try these on for size," he said, picking some stuff up out of the box and throwing it to me. "You go into the bedroom and put it on while I slip into something... uh, more comfortable, and we'll surprise each other."

I caught the wadded up stuff, feeling the slick surfaces of leather and rubber in my hands. I dutifully got up and took the apparel into the bedroom and threw it on the bed, undressing to get into it, my head reeling from a combination of drunkenness and horniness.

I would be lying if I told you that I hadn't had the possibility of fucking Ted on my mind when I agreed to go to his apartment. I'm just that kind of girl -- not cheap, but healthy. Put me alone with a big, strong, attractive man and I'm not going to stop nature from taking its course. My cunt craves the luxury of a hot stiff cock pumping up inside of it as much as any girl's, probably more than usual, I guess, because I like to think I'm not as neurotic about sex as most people. However, I certainly hadn't expected the evening to turn into a masquerade party. On the other hand, as I slipped my drenched panties off my sopping crotch and felt their saturated fabric peel off my matted, musky, pussy hair, the aroma of sex wafting up from between my thighs and filling my nostrils, I knew that I was so turned on that I wasn't going to be satisfied until I left with a load of jizz up my hungry cunt, and, who knew, this might be an interesting new way to get it.

I put on the costume laying on the bed, trying to figure out where each unusual thing went, and then stood in front of the mirror studying my outfit.

What I had put on was a frilly little maid's uniform. It had a tight corset that made my throbbing tits come way up, and under the stiff, short skirt, I was wearing a special pair of panties made out of black rubber that were open at the crotch.

When I walked out of the bedroom, my cunt was burning in anticipation, sliding in harness of the tight rubber panties, the lips bulging in a sobbing hairy furrow from the crevice of clenching black slickness.

But the sensation I was feeling was nothing compared to the sexual electricity that coursed through my horny body when I saw Ted.

He was standing with his legs apart and his hands cocked on his hips, looking as close to the devil himself as I could imagine. He was wearing some sort of black leather costume with all sorts of straps and buckles and laces, with a sinister black cape swirling around his shoulders like a shroud. He gripped a long, snake-like whip that curled sensuously like a cobra to the floor.

Right in the center of his studded leather ensemble his crotch was open, the leather cut away so that his cock was standing free. And what a cock it was; a ten-inch beauty that started in an unruly nest of jet-black crotch hair and rose like a marble column from his taut round balls.

His swinging boom reached out to me, drawing me magnetically toward it so that all I wanted to do was throw myself at his feet, thankful for any piece of himself that he would deign to give me. God, my pussy was throbbing so hard in the open slot of the clinging rubber panties that I thought I was going to come right there without even being touched.

"Oh, my God," I cried, throwing myself to the floor at his feet and reaching up and throwing my trembling hands around his twitching cock, virtually hanging on it. "Let me suck that monster. Let me feel your cock in my mouth. I'll do anything you want."

His response was nothing like I had anticipated. For when I looked up at his face, expecting him to tell me to go ahead and suck his cock, instead of pleasure I read anger on it, lines of scorn pinching his mouth and narrowing his eyes so that they seemed to burn through my prickling skin.

"You slime," he hissed, "you rotten turd. What makes you think you're good enough to suck my magnificent prick? You think I let just any filthy little tramp put her scummy mouth on my sacred cock? How do I know you're not diseased?"

Logically, I should have been immediately turned off and gotten the hell out of there. But there was some mysteriously erotic intangible working, something about the ambiance and the costumes we were wearing, something about the memory of all those lewd pictures I had seen, something about the alcohol that seared my fuzzy brain, made it all take on a different light. Instead of being offended by what he said, I found myself turned on even more, my cunt gushing helplessly from the impact of his harsh words, the creamy discharge secreting milkily and oozing from my burgeoning gash which pouted from the clenching slit of my tight rubber panties.

"Tell me what to do," I begged, my pussy pulsing with the degrading words.

"Lick my boots and prove how low you really are," he snarled, the spittle flying from his lips.

I thrust my nose to the cold toe of his black leather boots and began licking furiously, the sloshing of my wet tongue against the polished leather matching the continued bubbling of my hopelessly aroused cunt.

"Hurry up, you silly bitch!" he ordered. "And don't forget to lick the soles... in case I stepped in any dog shit."

When I didn't respond fast enough to suit him, I saw his clenched hand rise and the long black whip come out of nowhere and snap across my back, encircling my waist like an enraged python. My raw flesh bulged in pulsing welts through the slashed material of the maid's uniform as I shook in shuddering spasms.

Jesus, I thought as I felt my cunt drool thrillingly between my legs, smearing my thighs with a thick froth and puddling in warm splatted drops on the floor, this isn't cruelty. This is coming!

Incredibly enough, without actually having even been touched by Ted, I had already come in his presence, experiencing a powerful shuddering orgasm just by the power of his command to lick his boots, and the filthy insults he spewed my way, and the sweet caress of his terrible lash, lacerating my back to the point of swollen red bubbling. My cunt was as wringing wet and filled with excitement as if it had just had one or even two charging, spurting cocks up it.

My God, I thought, if this is happening to me now, what am I going to be like before this is over?

I deliriously fell to his boots again, anxious to win a place in his favor by doing what he wished, no matter how degrading. By now, just the taste and scent of the leather turned me on, a shock wave which hit my cunt with a bang, my clit springing out from the top of my pussy at least an inch, my pubic hair sticking straight out, and my engorged fucking canal choked to the brim with a bubbling fresh load of pussy juice. Coming repeatedly, my body shaking so badly I could hardly keep my balance, I steadied myself and made oral love to his boot, massaging it with my lips, tongue and teeth as carefully as I would have the sweetest of stiff cocks.

But I couldn't satisfy him, which excited me all the more, as he growled, "Enough of this silly shit," and swung the boot that I wasn't licking so that it crashed against my ear, the impact filling my head with ringing and sending me toppling in a heap on the floor.

I looked up into his cold gray eyes and saw his twisted lips spit in disgust, "I see the only way you'll be good for a damn thing will be to give you a good hard fucking."

"Oh, yes!" I cried, coming to life from such a cunt-thrilling suggestion, reaching out in his general direction.

"But first you must be prepared. Anoint my noble cock with your trembling lips, bitch."

Oh yes, yes, I thought as I got up and leapt to his long, stiff prick, seizing it in my hungry mouth as I began to lick and kiss it ardently, reveling in the faint aroma and taste of urine emanating from his cock.

I nibbled on his prick. I hung on for dear life -- I teased it, I tortured it -- I did everything I could think of to his already swollen battering ram of a cock to get it harder, stiffer, longer, and even more swollen for its impending eruption of cum, so that finally it would at last explode inside my mouth, tearing my throat apart with lava-hot missiles of molten jizz. The more he brutally shoved inside of me, the more I loved it, savoring the delicious flesh of his brawny long cock, loving its sleek graceful lines coursing in luxury through my mouth, the rising and drooping slope of the rim of the knotty head sliding into my sensitive throat.

I gagged as my throat closed around his cock like a live sponge, my eyeballs bobbing as I desperately fought for breath, starved of oxygen but still determined not to let go of the incredibly firm cock that was choking me.

No matter if I had turned blue, I wouldn't have released his sweet-tasting dick for anything. But suddenly it was taken away from me, snatched out of my throat in an angry thrust, the turgid meat of his cock sliding roughly over my startled lips.

"Enough of your filthy spit soiling my flawless cock," he said, as though he were some kind of medieval royalty and I were the scum of scums. "Spread your skinny pipe-stem legs so I can go about preparing you for the fuck that will turn you into a woman instead of a flat-chested, shit-assed little girl. It's best I clean your filthy pussy out in advance with my wondrous tongue; there's no telling what you've got up there."

I fell on my back and parted my legs, feeling my cunt thrust out toward him as though it were a hairy hand, my pussy lips the squishy fingers that beckoned him to do as he pleased to my helpless, sopping twat.

He got on his knees and shot his tongue up me like a hot lance. My pussy lips, thrust out in extraordinary engorgement by the slit in the tight rubber panties, reached out to his face like tendrils on a man-eating plant, grasping onto his face, sucking the blood from his cheeks. His nose and mouth entered my cunt and began reaming me out. The rough taste buds of his tongue scraped my ultra-sensitive cunt walls, setting, off tremors of agonized delight. His nose found its way to my cleat-like clit and pushed against it, activating an alarm system within my body that sent off blaring sirens and clanging bells.

God, I was coming and coming again, as one orgasmic wave eclipsed the one preceding it until they were all rolled into one.

His tongue was like an avenging dick, twisting in and out of my fucking canal like a corkscrew as he tasted my cunt juice, the fluid lapping up in his face like shaving cream. I leaned back on my elbows and exulted in what was happening to me, my cunt answering every searing thrust of his vengeful tongue with a noose-like constriction around the cock-like member that shot like a rapier from his drooling mouth.

But then suddenly the tongue was gone as abruptly as his cock had vanished from my mouth as he withdrew his face from my pussy and I was left there stranded.

"Please," I begged, my thighs apart and my hungry cunt staring him directly in the eye, "don't leave me like this. Do something to me. Anything!"

"One last preparation to get you properly ready for the fuck," he said gravely, pronouncing "the fuck" as though it was not going to be just any fuck, but one of significance.

"Anything, master, anything," I said spontaneously, the humiliating words just seeming to come with horrible naturalness.

His right hand moved like it had before, and again, out of nowhere, the black fang of the whip bit into me, only this time slicing into my thigh.

"Do you like it?" he sneered.

"Yes, yes, of course. More, master, more," I babbled deliriously as he accommodated me by slicing a matching brand across my other thigh. My legs and thighs quivered in shock, but I was determined to keep them apart, flaunting my sobbing, drooling cunt at him in the hope that he would finally penetrate it and rip it apart with his sword of a cock.

"Yes, a lowly germ like you would like to be punished. You know why, cunt?" he yelled.

"No, master, no, tell me how inferior I am," I pleaded, begging to be degraded.

"Because you're so low, so loathsome, that you know this is what you deserve. You know it's your pleasure to be whipped by me. You should feel honored I even take the time to do this to you."

"Oh, do it, do it to me," I moaned, not sure of exactly what I meant, just anxious to feel some more stimulation.

"One last thing," he said with an inscrutable smile so that I couldn't prepare myself for what was coming next.

Out of thin air the whip appeared, cracking downward like a surgeon's scalpel and slicing a thin, bloody nick into my cunt, transforming my cunt lips into a temporary fount of blood that inundated my crotch with bubbling red stickiness, giving my pussy hair a dripping, bizarre glow.

The throbbing pain I instantly felt was only an impetus toward further coming, a trigger that released an orgasmic instinct that convulsed my whole body, producing great clots of creamy fluid in my cunt that bubbled droolingly to the surface and mixed in a rich emulsion with the blood in my pussy. I writhed in front of him, winking my bloody, creamy, hairy cunt at him like a neon light.

"Now you're ready," he pronounced, and then promptly left the room as I sobbed in despair on the floor.

As I looked up when he returned, I couldn't believe what I saw. Out of a polished wood chest, his hands emerged with a huge dildo, jet-black and as long as my arms, it seemed. When he started to adjust himself for what was next, I could see that his leather suit had special straps to buckle the monster rod in place.

"Well?" he said with great agitation, obviously expecting some from me.

I was at a loss for a response.

"Get up off your lazy ass and help me with this, you slimy bitch," he ordered.

I frantically got to my feet, weaving from the dizziness, my cunt a throbbing wound between my legs, its pursing lips begging for more through the searing pain. Somehow I managed to stay erect and helped him buckle and strap the enormous tool around his waist. I teetered backward, regarding in abject astonishment the girth and length of the enormous black prong that wavered menacingly from between his legs, dwarfing his real cock which jutted straight underneath the dildo in parallel stiffness. God, what it would be like to have that hard rubber thing stuck up me, I thought, quivering all over in anticipation.

"Get over to that coffee table and lean forward. And while you're doing it you might as well pray for God to save your soul after I'm through with you, you cheap whore."

I did as I was told, throwing my torso over the top of the table -- and shooting my ass up in the air so I could feel my spread cheeks and pulsating cunt exposed by the opening in the rubber panties. I could feel his hot breath on my asshole and cunt at first, and then I felt him press the dildo against my puckering asshole.

"Oh, my God!" I screamed. "How can you do this to me?"

"With pleasure, my child," he sneered as he shoved the stony end of the dildo against the soft ridges of my asshole and gave a shove, sending the girder-like rubber dick tearing into my ass, quickly jamming all the way into my intestine where I could feel a ball of scalding shit smother the fake prick.

He pounded away with the dildo like he was going to rip me in two, and immediately having adjusted to the new form of torture with grateful excitement, I prayed that he would, ripping a huge bloody swath through me, killing me with sex.

But, Goddamn it, the madman wasn't through yet. For suddenly my pussy lips tingled as something unbelievably hard nudged up against them and then bullied its way past their soft portals into my cunt. As I felt it cram into me, I could tell from its feel and warmth that he had just stuck his prick up my pussy at last and was fucking me in the cunt while the dildo was punishingly reaming out my ass.

The twin jack hammers tore inside me, ramming each other through the thin wall of membrane between my asshole and cunt that was all that separated them as they pushed and pulled in parallel movements -- which suited me fine since by now all of my vital bodily functions seemed to have become centered between my legs.

Side by side, the dual rapiers flashing from between his legs sliced into me, grooving my ass and cunt with a hideously effective whipsaw technique that was tearing me apart. Their pounding thrusts seemed to bring a new orgasm in me with each twin surge into the two most sensitive orifices of my body, the black rubber dildo searing the cramped interior of my asshole and the pulsing gristle of his prick fighting wildly upstream in the foaming fucking canal of my awash pussy. I twisted and moaned like I was being crucified, and my screams brought me what I really wanted -- more and more vicious thrusts up my ass and cunt from the twin cocks grinding them raw, going further and further inside me until they seemed to rip through my belly and emerge like bloody lances.

It was no longer possible to keep count of my orgasms as they swept over me like sheets of rain across a rolling plain. By now I was concentrating on only one thing, forcing an ejaculation between my legs, lusting for the incomparable feel of buckets of hot jizz sticking to the insides of my cunt, spraying the spongy interior with a cascade of steaming stickiness.

I could feel his prick straining to go even further up my cunt, battering at the hidden button of my cervix and trying to rip into my womb, swelling as it barged its way tighter and higher inside me, straining on the verge of exploding with cum. To encourage his cock toward ejaculation, I wiggled my ass as hard as I could, feeling the dildo pull from one side of my ass to the other, stretching the narrow canal of my rectum into a painful shambles. But, my shimmying took hold of his cock, now imbedded stiffly all the way up my cunt, a prisoner of its own erection, and gave it a tight wringing that it could not endure and still remain standing stiffly. Immediately I felt his prick jump and then bare back the tiny lips of the slit at the tip of its stony head and unleash a stream of cum that flew up me in torrents, clogging my insides with thick rich globs of scalding jizz.

Ted continued to gush hot cum up my cunt, there seeming to be no end to his supply. Having him come inside of me was like turning on a fire hydrant and then not being able to turn it off because of the intensity of the escaping torrent it spewed. If he didn't stop coming, I was certain that I was somehow going to drown from the inside, his discharge accumulating inside me alarmingly as he came and came again.

My ass had stopped even trying to resist, my asshole just collapsing in abject surrender around the hard rubber exterior of the rampaging dildo. I wondered when it would finally tear through the membrane and my ass and bowels would suddenly be overwhelmed with an overflow of jizz from my engorged cunt.

Finally, he stopped coming inside of me, and then suddenly I felt as though an immense burden had been lifted and that I was floating on air. The intense throbbing of my gaping cunt and ruined asshole told me that he had abruptly withdrawn his twin battering rams, leaving my two fucking canals reflexively grasping in vain for the hard stiff pricks that were no longer inside.

I toppled off the coffee table and lay groaning on the floor, peering down at my crotch and savoring the sight of rich pools of jizz oozing from my cunt, my elongated pussy lips hanging out like a tired dog's tongue, my exhausted clit shriveled back to its original size.

Somewhere within me I knew that the end was not near. There was still one more act I had to complete before my incredible journey was over. But how could I finish without any cock inside me?

I soon found out, as Ted came to me and hovered menacingly over my disheveled form, the room light glinting off his bared teeth. The shadow of his dildo and cock spread over my face, their image blanketing my line of vision as Ted loomed more and more directly above me.

My eyes bugged out in alarm as he took his now flaccid prick in his hand like a butcher handling a huge roll of sausage and pointed it at me.

"Oh, my God, I see, I see!" I cried, realizing at the last instant how it was all going to end.

I could see the center of his cock, a milky glob of sperm sliding sloppily from it. It seemed to hiss at me as it opened its narrow edges. Suddenly I realized that the hiss was real and he was pissing on me.

"This is what you deserve," he snarled, bathing my face with the exhilarating torrent of a piss. "At last we've discovered what you're good for -- a human toilet."

My body jumped at his degrading words. My tongue greedily reached out seeking to get every drop of his steaming piss. I knew I was almost there now as I lapped his urine, and then, suddenly, there I was coming. Without a second thought I jumped, and my body finally gave in and I was swept into the most agonizingly exotic downward flight of orgasm that I had ever endured.

My body relaxed as I let the shuddering spasms of my coming overtake me, the incessant convulsions throwing me all over the floor like I was having a fit. I was totally at the mercy of the nervous impulses of my body, shaking and shivering.

I let myself go totally, feeling the saliva drool from my mouth as though I were a helpless infant. My bowels gave way and hot shit coursed down an asshole stretched so large that the foulness sprayed in a shotgun burst from between my parted cheeks. My bladder collapsed, sending a gushing stream of warm piss through my cunt to mix with all the other discharges already choking it with effluence, then puddling like a yellow lake on the floor.

I lay there, moaning and barely conscious, in a pool of my own urine and feces, my cunt and ass swelling into discolored, bruised mounds by the moment, the welts on my back and thighs pulsing angrily in bloody trails across my flesh.

CHAPTER SIX

The heat really got intense as the nights wore on. Almost as though he had learned the police had assigned their ace investigator to the case, the rapist began accelerating his activity, striking sometimes more than once a night. Because of the growing intensity of the case, by now I was with Ted almost constantly as we worked around the clock trying to solve the crimes. They wouldn't have approved of it downtown, but for the time being I was living with him so we wouldn't have any problems throwing ourselves at each other in an orgy of fucking and sucking whenever we had a few moments to ourselves.

God, I was crazy about Ted. The first night with the sado-masochistic tricks was just a prelude to an endless variety of sex Ted had brewing in his libido. Jesus, what a man to have at your side. No wonder he was the department's top sex crime investigator -- there was no trick a sex maniac could think of that Ted hadn't already thought of. How could they elude him when he had a dirtier mind than they did, and was always one jump ahead of them?

The thing about Ted was that no matter what the sexual activity was -- sado-masochism, bondage, reversed sex roles, leather, golden showers -- he always threw himself into it with the utmost conviction, so that each time we fucked in a different way, I really believed that this was really his thing. I don't know, but maybe in the scope of his limitless supercharged libido, there was room for them all.

In any case, the combination of hard work and hard fucking apparently seemed to agree with me because even after a few hours' sleep, I was never tired. Despite irregular meals, usually picked up on the run in greasy spoon joints like the Whammo Burger, I actually gained three pounds, all of it apparently going to my cunt, Ted laughingly suggested.

We spent a great deal of time going over the rapist's mode of operation, looking for clues we might have previously missed. Increasingly, however, we were being interrupted by the report of a new assault and would have to race to the scene of a new rape, always to find some poor woman with her clothes torn off, raped and beaten to a pulp, her abused cunt looking like one of the lacerations covering her naked bruised body after her crazed assailant had gotten through with her.

If the victim remembered anything, it was always the same thing -- the rapist apparently had an enormous cock, and being ravaged by it was apparently enough to obliterate the memory of anything else.

Two days short of our first month's anniversary together, Ted and I were huddled in a small dingy room at the station chewing pencil stubs and drinking cold coffee, wishing for clues, when the phone rang as it so frequently did lately.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Ted said when he got the message, slamming the receiver down.

"What happened?"

"He just struck again."

"Where?"

"Outside General Hospital. He just raped the director of nursing."

We dashed out of the building and piled into the special squad car we were using, a special driver loaned to us from downtown on stand-by to whisk us to the scene of the latest atrocity.

The squad car wheeled around corners on two wheels toward General Hospital. When we got there, there was the usual circle of panic around the victim, even experienced hands aghast at the pitiful wreck her naked body had become. But this time, in addition to the customary similarities, there was also something markedly different from anything that had happened before.

"This time we spotted him," a uniformed cop said frantically to Ted.

"What?" Ted blurted, startled by the first break in the case.

"Right, we gotta look at him. The cop on the beat got here just as the guy was finishing with her. Saw him run down McKinley Avenue right over there and turn right in an alley on Harding going south. An A-P-B's already been put out for him and we just got a probable sighting that he was seen going north on Tyler Boulevard."

"Quick, let's get the hell over there," Ted said, grabbing me and pushing me toward the car.

Running red lights and taking short cuts the wrong way up one-way streets, with our siren screaming, we sped toward Tyler Blvd., our eyes glued to the streets whizzing by for some sign of our quarry.

Tyler Blvd. was one of the most run-down streets in town, and when we got there, we realized from the total darkness that the streetlights were all out of order. The wind howled through the skeletons of abandoned and burned out houses that dotted the street like remnants of a siege.

Suddenly a small streak of color darted across the desolate landscape of the bleak void of Tyler Blvd.

"Jesus Christ, did you see that?" Ted said.

"Who, what..."

"A man," Ted cried. "I'm going to get him."

"Wait for me," I said after I caught my wits, but by then he was already out of the car and disappearing into the darkness, his form almost instantaneously eclipsed by the looming shadows.

I looked puzzled for a moment, then decided with a sigh, "I guess all there is to do is sit and wait."

But I still felt uneasy. I felt that it was my responsibility to be backing Ted up in some way in case anything happened, and I felt frustrated that there seemed no way at the moment I could fulfill it.

"Did you see where he went?" I asked the driver.

"You gonna try and cover him?" the driver said, turning to face me. We had been so busy that it was the first time I'd ever really noticed what he looked like. He was in his early twenties and just out of the Police Academy.

"I think so," I said tersely, trying to conceal the franticness I felt inside.

"Well, good luck, ma'am, but it's impossible to see out there. You might wind up shooting each other."

"Yes, that's good thinking..." I said, pausing for a name that I suddenly realized I either couldn't recall, or in the arrogance of my recent sense of self-importance, had been too selfishly busy to ask.

"O'Hara. Thomas O'Hara, but my friends call me Red."

I could see why, a lock of flaming red hair poking out from under his cocked cap. "Red O'Hara," I laughed spontaneously, "at least that's a swell name for a cop."

I'd kind of embarrassed him and I saw his naturally red face get even redder as he blushed at my teasing.

"You're shy," I said in surprise, my mind suddenly a million miles away from the dreary blackness of Tyler Blvd. "How did such a shy young guy become something as violent and blusterous as a cop?"

"By relatives," he admitted, his green eyes twinkling from telling one on himself. "My dad was a cop, my uncle's one, a couple of cousins, and my mother's father --so you can see..."

"Well, you must have inherited something from them because I think your reasoning about going out there after Ted is very sound," I said, getting back with a lurch to the reality at hand. "My body tells me to go out there after him, but my head tells me you're right -- it would probably only make things worse."

"Anyway, he'll probably be back in just a few minutes," O'Hara said. "It was probably just a stray cat he saw. An orange one, maybe."

"Maybe," I said pensively.

"You cold?" O'Hara asked.

"You better believe it," I said, feeling the cooling night air.

"Then why don't we roll up the windows and you come up here in the front seat where the heater is so it can warm up your legs. It must be cold back there with those bare legs."

Bare legs. Funny, but when he said that, I suddenly became very conscious of them and could feel goosebumps rising all along them past the tops of my stockings all the way to my inner thighs, pinching against the elastic of my panties.

It occurred to me that the cold had not seemed to affect my legs at all until O'Hara made his remark about them. And now there were tingling, sending vibrations all the way up to the base of my crotch -- and it didn't seem as though it had anything to do with the cold.

"No, that's all right. I'll be okay back here," I said, trying to defeat the sensual tingling coursing up and down my trembling legs.

"Okay, ma'am," O'Hara said, "but if you'll pardon me for saying so, you look a little blue."

"Really?" I blurted, anxious to believe that the cold actually was responsible for the strange way I was feeling.

He nodded his head.

"All right," I agreed, and rolled up the window, starting to get out of the car and come around to the front.

"No, no, wait, don't do that," O'Hara said, reaching over the seat and putting his hand around my wrist to stop me from opening the door. "You'll let out whatever warm air is already in the car and it'll be a bitch... uh, tough to heat it up from scratch."

"Then how will I get into the front?" I asked.

"Just climb over," he said, and then added with a subtle but discernible wink, "I'll help you."

Was he kidding or what, I wondered for a second and then drove it out of my mind. I decided I must not be as good under pressure as I'd thought I was especially if Ted leaving for a few minutes was going to get me as disoriented and jumpy as this.

"Sure, sure," I said after taking a deep breath, leaning forward in order to clamber over the seat on the passenger's side.

I hoisted myself up and balanced myself on my waist at the top of the seat. I put my hands down on the seat for a grip to let myself down, but the surface was slicker than I had anticipated and my palms slid forward, throwing my torso off balance on the backrest and lurching my hips and ass abruptly forward, the back of my skirt flying up in the process.

Literally humped in the ridiculous position, jack-knifed over the seat, at first I felt embarrassment about my lack of coordination and loss of dignity, especially the latter when I felt the still cold air lapping against the cheeks of my upturned ass through my flimsy panties.

Then, the embarrassment turned to shock when without warning the cold air changed into a cold hand, the fingers grasping strongly over the bulging cheeks of my ass, the feeling of flesh on flesh highly vivid to me through my gossamer panties.

"C'mon," he said, "let me give you a little help here and I'll ease you down."

I looked up from my ridiculous vantage point and got a clear view of his young Irish face, and couldn't think of anything to say.

He took my silence as an okay and immediately I could feel his hand repositioning itself down further so that his fingers no longer just grabbed my ass but were now cupping my cunt, straining against the filmy crotch of my panties.

My pussy, functioning as though it had a mind of its own, responded to the stimulation of his fingers by abandoning its restraint and suddenly spilling a trickle of creaming juice. As I felt the dampness abruptly spreading in a widening circle on the crotch of my soon-to-be-sopping panties, a gulping flush came over my body, and reflexively I quickly opened my thighs, allowing his fingers to pop into the gushing slit of my cunt. Then, just as reflexively, I closed them, trapping him inside my cunt with only the invisible panties separating his hand from the throbbing oozing meat of my pussy.

He moved his fingers like they were ostensibly trying to get out, but the combination of both of our movements seemed to only drive them further into my cunt so that my pussy muscles started to contract uncontrollably and the aroused membrane excreted more and more sticky cream to seep through my panties and drench O'Hara's probing hand.

"Oh, God," I moaned, finally admitting my condition and the situation out loud, "don't you think we should stop?" But then I impulsively wiggled my ass and felt his fingers expand deliriously inside my cunt, his nails gouging thrillingly into my ultra-sensitive pussy walls.

"But we've got to keep warm," he said with a big lopsided grin, "and I can't think of a better way, ma'am."

He had a point there. Every time I moved my ass, his fingers jammed more tightly up my pussy, and a new flood of heat roared through my body, starting at my cunt and spreading warmly all over me.

"Just close your eyes and relax, and I guarantee I'll have you warmed up in a minute," he promised.

I closed my eyes and imagined what was happening to my slurping cunt.

My mind drew a picture of a big, hairy cunt with bright red lips, an aggressive, assertive organ, the way I imagined my cunt. But instead of imagining fingers stuffing their way inside of it, I saw something else -- something a lot more exciting. The panties had been pushed away and the cunt was open, hairily pared for some sweet thing to penetrate it. All of a sudden, a huge, throbbing cock loomed and rammed into the cunt, the pussy lips closing gratefully around the surging prick, grabbing onto the pounding shaft with a drooling lock.

From that moment on I couldn't focus on anything but the image of what I imagined his cock to be like, a long marble column with freckles on it and a shockingly blue vein coursing along the underside, a beautiful prick jutting from a clump of red hair and supporting a pair of egg-sized balls.

And when I opened my eyes I had to blink a couple of times to make sure they still weren't closed. Because before me was the same prick I had just been thinking about. He'd undone his fly and pulled his cock out of his pants, balls and all, and placed his stiff prick right under my nose.

At first, I was immobilized by how stunned I was, but when he gave me an extra thrust of his gooey fingers up my creaming cunt, I threw myself instinctively onto his burgeoning cock and began sucking it, feeling the knotty head fill my throat with its muscular bulge.

I could only think of his stiff cock and the pulsing thrill that was growing in my pussy. I was responding like a bitch in heat.

Because of the odd position in which I dangled, it was a lot easier to swallow his tremendous cock whole. Almost instantly I found my nibbling lips pressing against the hairy pouch of his throbbing balls as I had his prick all the way to the hilt in my slobbering mouth.

It was difficult for me to suck upward, so when I did, it was all the more slower and agonizing for him, his foreskin being dragged by my clutching lips only a fraction at a time until, by the time I got to the end of his cock, the head of his prick was about ready to spurt, teased into a state of unbearable tension as it pulsated between my lips.

Then, just as he was on the verge of filling my mouth with hot cum, I would prolong the agony by swooping downward in less than a second, temporarily drowning his struggling cock in a lake of my sticky saliva.

Then, I started up again, mercilessly boring down on him again, his prick seeming to grow an inch in stiffness with each repetition of my exquisite torture.

But it was all a game I was playing with my mouth because I knew where I wanted his engorged cock to finish its pounding, ejaculating a creamy stream of jizz at the end of its final flex in my cunt, spraying my insides with his gooey sauce. I put my hands to his cock, feeling where it entered my puckered lips, and began sliding it out, feeling its dimensions slide through my mouth, the knotty, bulging head lingering throbbingly before it popped out.

"Fuck me," I rasped. "Stick it in my cunt. Fuck me!"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see him clamber over into the back seat so he could get a shot at me. Quickly he was hovering over my back, pulling down my panties, his hot breath against the back of my neck as he guided his hot, hard prick between the engorged lips of my pussy and securely into my cunt, filling my pussy with stiff cock.

I could feel him jam into me again and again, the position we were in allowing his long cock to penetrate me to the maximum, which in his case was at least ten inches. My cunt throbbed from the battering it was taking from the concrete head of his cock as he pounded away at me like a jack hammer, shattering my throbbing loins with one thrust after another up my pulsing grateful cunt. Oh, God, I was delirious as I did everything I could to get his cock up me further, wiggling my ass and screwing down on his prick like I was going to swallow his cock and balls with my voracious cunt.

And then I gasped for breath as I realized that his cock had, incredibly, just grown some more inside me, fantastically thickening and stretching as it stretched the cavity between my legs into a cavern, pushing the limits of my cunt and womb all the way up to my throat it seemed. Sweet Jesus, he was getting ready to come -- I could feel it! And soon the creamy warmth of his jizz would be coating my insides.

His voice abruptly interrupted my reverie as he said, "I'm ready to come... and I've got a little trick that'll take you right along with me. You game?"

Was I game? Gamey was more like it. I'd do anything to trigger the explosion of his creaming prick in my cunt. I certainly didn't need any help in coming, but a little extra fuel in the tank never hurts, so I begged him to do whatever he wanted to me.

But it was almost more than I bargained for when suddenly I felt something cold and metallic nudging my asshole, the sensitive flesh recoiling in tight puckering.

"What's that?" I asked.

"My other pistol," he chuckled and I realized that he was in the process of sticking the barrel of his service revolver up my ass, fucking me with his gun and cock at the same time.

Well, why not, it suddenly occurred to me as I murmured, "Uh huh," and dreamily wiggled my ass to trap his cock in my cunt even more securely and invite him to explore with his rod up my tight, waiting asshole.

The coldness of his gun only lasted a brutal shocking moment as it slid like ice up my throbbing asshole. But just as quickly as it seemed as though my guts would freeze and shatter from the chilling shock. The friction from his gun barrel sliding up and down my asshole seemed to cause sparks which ignited fires all through me, culminating in an inferno between my legs, my ass a molten knot of pounding fury, and my cunt stuffed to the slimy brim with a big, sweet cock.

My coming started just before his so that I was able to field his climax. My cunt smothered and choked his cock, wringing it dry of every gooey drop of jizz and pulling it further and further inside me as he came and came again. Oh, it was delicious as my cunt literally popped with pleasure.

O'Hara was certainly right, the combination of his gun barrel fucking me in the ass, while his cock reamed out my voracious cunt, had gotten me off... spectacularly.

But he wasn't finished, working the gun barrel up my self-lubricating asshole long after his cock had stopped spurting and was growing limp inside my pussy. I wondered what he was doing and then started imagining in my uncontainable lust whether it was possible to come separately in my ass. I could envision a tightening of those vise-like muscles in my rectum and then an explosion of release, starting from my bowels and blowing like a stiff wind through my asshole. "Hee, hee," I couldn't help giggling, "it sounds just like a fart."

"What'd you say, baby," he asked as he continued to pump his revolver up my willing ass.

"Oh... nothing... nothing," I, moaned, "just keep shoving. Fill my ass with your iron."

"Gladly," he said, jabbing further and at the same time reactivating his dick, which now started to grow harder in my cunt, replenishing itself for another pounding fuck.

The motions of intense sex started again, the jack-hammer probing of his two rods and the jiggling movement of my ass as the renaissance of our fuck began.

And then suddenly I thought we had gone too far, that O'Hara had lost his mind in the erotic agony I was putting him through and had killed me. That was the first thing that went through my mind when I heard the explosion -- I thought he'd gotten so excited he'd pulled the trigger of his gun and filled my ass with hot lead.

What a way to go, I thought, but just as quickly realized that I was still in one piece and that the gunshot had come from somewhere outside the car.

"Oh, my God, Ted!" I blurted and suddenly found myself back in reality, and embarrassingly so, with a throbbing prick stuck up my foaming cunt and the steel prong of a gun barrel six inches up my ass.

I pulled out and fell down from the backrest, opening the front door in the same motion as I toppled to the seat. I got out of the car and yanked up my sopping panties and pulled down my skirt and ran toward the crack of the shot, my service revolver unholstered for the first time since I'd held it on that boy in the alley.

"Ted... Ted!" I called. "Are you all right? Did you fire that shot?"

Blam! Another shot rang out, but this one a lot closer to me as I edged around the corner of a crumbling building.

"Ted!" I implored.

Blam! This one was so close that I could feel it. It passed just inches over my head, seeming to part my hair, ricocheting off the bricks and screaming into the night.

There was no doubt about it, they were shooting at me.

Instantly, survival became the only consideration in my frantic brain. Before I could help anybody, I had to take care of this maniac shooting at me. Otherwise, I was dead.

My eyes combed the darkness, sifting through it for some sign of whoever was shooting at me. Everything was an inky blackness, until it was breached for a split second by an orange flash accompanied by the explosion of gun powder. Another shot whizzed by me and thudded into the wall behind me.

It was pure reflex that made me pull the trigger, sending a shot of my own whistling in the direction of the flash I'd seen. I was quickly answered by a retaliation of fire from the same spot and I squeezed off two more of my own, pumping them in rapid fire at my invisible target.

Then, to my surprise, there was no more gunfire and I just waited in the total darkness. Just as I was wondering what move I should make next, the eerie silence of the night was shattered by a mournful groan coming from where I had seen the gunfire.

"O'Hara," I yelled back to the car.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"I'm over here... by the nearest building."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you spotted."

"Then come over here and cover me while I go check on what's happened. Somebody was shooting at me and I think maybe I hit them."

When O'Hara had caught up with me, I left him there and advanced toward where I thought I'd heard the moaning. After about ten feet I knew I was on the right track as I heard a second moan coming from somewhere right along my path.

Twenty-five feet farther in an alley a third moan was ringing in my ears and I realized that it was coming from right around the corner of a building where whoever it was had taken cover.

I stepped around the edge of the building with my gun cocked and pointing down, ready to pull the trigger if anything moved. It's a good thing he was unconscious because if he had moved a muscle I would have blasted him point-blank. As it was I was staring Ted in the face.

Yes, it was Ted. O'Hara's grisly prediction had come true -- we had wound up shooting at each other in the total darkness. Only I, the rookie on the force with no experience with a gun, had wound up being a better shot than Ted, an experienced, crack detective.

There were two gaping holes in his chest where I had apparently hit him side by side with my final salvo of shots. He was breathing, but just barely as the blood welled from the oozing holes, one of them dangerously near his heart.

He lay there on his back, clutching his now useless gun in one hand and something else in the other. Something made me look down and see they were a pair of white panties, torn and bloody.

"Oh, my God, what's happened!" I exclaimed as a queasy feeling attacked me and I began to faint, my gun clattering to the ground and going off from the impact, the explosion echoing wildly in the alley.

The last thing I remember before I slipped to the ground and closed my eyes to a blackness even deeper than Tyler Blvd. was O'Hara catching up with me and saying with bitter words that momentarily sliced through my haze before I passed out, "So you killed your partner, huh?"

CHAPTER SEVEN

They tried everything to save him and he was so tough he hung on for days. But after a second bout with emergency surgery, Ted died.

There was an investigation, but there was never any official hearing. They were being kind, I guess. Oh, not to me -- they would have liked to have fired me. They were being kind to themselves. They were afraid of all the bad publicity if it came out in public that one of the policewomen that they'd taken so much credit for hiring, wound up shooting her partner. So they just put me on paid suspension by direction of the commissioner's office and were waiting for the whole thing to blow over so they could decide what to ultimately do with me.

I didn't argue with them. I didn't have the stomach for police work anymore. I was too washed out to go back to some other kind of work, so as much as my pride hated to admit it, I needed the check they sent me every two weeks.

The panties in Ted's hand had turned out to have belonged to the head nurse at General Hospital who was raped that night just before Ted and I took out after the rapist. Apparently, Ted had either cornered the rapist and grabbed the panties before the guy got away, or Ted had found them after the rapist had dropped them while in flight. In any case, the panties in Ted's hand proved that it was the rapist we had been chasing.

Somewhere, for some reason, Ted had fired a shot, probably at the fleeing suspect. When I came onto the scene he probably thought I was the rapist still lurking around and shot at me. I shot back, he returned my fire, I answered with more shots of my own, and the next thing I knew I had killed my partner, who also happened to be the only man I'd ever loved. The thought that I was busy fucking that callow kid O'Hara when I should have been backing up Ted haunted me. If I'd had enough alertness to go with him at first instead of fumbling around like a schoolgirl, we would have known each other's positions and probably would have caught the rapist with nobody hurt.

The idea of letting my cunt tell me what to do and giving into O'Hara was even more disturbing when O'Hara gave a lot of evidence against me, saying I was incompetent and didn't seem to know what I was doing and had abandoned my partner. He never mentioned that we were fucking in the patrol car, but I could only be thankful that there was never a hearing for him to testify under oath.

Sitting around the house with nothing to do, I just moped through the days, tranquilized on all the booze I was drinking and pot I was smoking these days. But the nights were different. The minute I went to sleep and started dreaming, all hell broke loose. I was haunted by an endless replay of the night that Ted was killed. In my dreams, sometimes things would seem to come out okay and I was sure that it had all been a big misunderstanding -- but then, at the last instant, something shocking would happen and I would be standing there again with my smoking gun in my hand looking down at Ted's corpse. And then the dream would end with O'Hara braying at me, yelling, "You did it, you cunt, you killed your partner," joined by a chorus suddenly materializing in the background of all the men at the 69th precinct screaming, "You can't trust any cunt with a gun."

Did I blame myself? Well, obviously. But half the problem was that I wouldn't admit it to myself while I was conscious, thereby refueling the fires of my nightmares. My initiative remained paralyzed, my guilt fighting to get free at night and bottling everything up during the day when my emotions were buried under a blanket of drugs.

When the headaches started, I realized that I didn't have the strength to go on without help. They were piercing lances of pain that penetrated like laser beams. Deciding to do something about myself, I turned to the only person I could trust, Professor Higgins. I called her office at the university and made an appointment with her secretary.

"I was wondering what became of you," Professor Higgins said the next day when I entered her office. At first, I was too embarrassed to tell her how I had failed.

"Well... I... uh..." I stammered.

"I'd almost think you've been avoiding me," she said pointedly.

"No... uh... not really," I lied, knowing all too well that I had been avoiding her because I was too ashamed as a failure to face her.

"I think so," she said. "And I'll bet it has something to do with the police."

I looked up in surprise. "How did you know?" I blurted.

"I'd say it was my woman's intuition," she said smiling, "except that I don't believe in that sexist bullshit."

"No, really, how did you know?" I said, grinning back at her, grateful that the tension seemed gone and that she seemed to understand what was wrong in advance, which would make it a lot easier to talk about. I felt a new sense of serenity knowing that there was someone in the world who cared about me.

"Working with a bunch of male chauvinist pigs in a crummy place like a police precinct is hardly calculated to keep a young woman in sound mental health," she said.

"But you encouraged me to join..." I blurted.

"True," she admitted. "But I never said it would be a bed of roses, either. Now, why don't you tell me about it and we'll see what we can cook up to get you out of it."

I couldn't resist her invitation to divest myself of the burden I had been carrying around for weeks, and immediately started talking a mile a minute, telling her everything.

"Wow!" was her response at the end of my story.

"What should I do?" I pleaded. "I'm going nuts hanging around the house doing nothing. And it's not over yet. I'm on suspension, but sooner or later they'll do something permanent about my case and it won't be pretty. I could end that prospect by quitting the force now, but I'm hooked on the salary. Jesus, I'm dying."

"So's everybody else," she said evenly, "some of us just kill ourselves faster. And, my dear, right now you're one of them. You've got to throw this off your shoulders and regain your self-respect."

"How?"

"The rapist is still at large, isn't he?" she said.

"Yes, Ted and I were the closest anybody's ever gotten to him."

"Then go after him," she said tersely.

"What? On my own?"

"Why not? The police aren't doing a blessed thing. From what you tell me, who knows more than anybody else about the habits of the rapist."

"Well... I guess me... you know, working with Ted and all. But Ted was really the brains of the operation."

"But who's the only one living?" she bluntly asked.

"Well, uh... me, but..."

"Then go to it, girl!" she exclaimed, pounding her fist on the desk for emphasis. "If you crack this case, you'll not only avenge the death of this man you say you loved, you'll cement your relationship with the police department so strongly you'll be able to stay on the force as long as you want. Which, I imagine, won't be long when attractive offers start coming your way from all the publicity you'll get."

"Jesus," I gasped in wonder, "it never occurred to me. You're right, I do know more about that sex maniac than anyone. We were right on top of him. But how can I get that close to him on my own, without a squad car, radios, and all that?"

"You've got yourself," she said simply.

"How will that..."

"You know the general vicinity where he's likely to strike, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then be there."

"You mean..."

"As a victim," she nodded affirmatively.

Well, why not, I thought. On my own I could do one thing the cops never gave me a chance to try, even though I had practically volunteered to use my body as bait to attract the rapist. That would show those bastards once and for all that a woman's body was good for something more than having babies and fucking the old man whenever he got drunk and felt like it.

"I'll do it," I said, getting up and going around the desk to hug Professor Higgins, our embrace quickly turning into one of our patented soul kisses, our tongues darting wetly into each other's mouths like cocks inside twin cunts.

"Then why don't we celebrate?" she said after we finally came up for air, my hand dropping to her breasts so I could feel the sharp points of her erect nipples poke through the sheer fabric of her blouse.

"Right on," I said, squeezing one of her small, hard tits and feeling the engorged nipple pulsing against my fingertips.

"I've got something I've been saving for you," Professor Higgins said.

Before I could ask what it was, she had already scrambled out from under me. She stepped to a file cabinet, unlocked the bottom drawer, and leaned over so that I could admire the rounded cheeks of her pantyless ass while she rummaged through the contents until she found what she was looking for. As she searched I saw that she didn't just have the customary books and papers in the drawer, but also a number of items apparently made of rubber or leather.

Professor Higgins drew out what first looked to be a thick length of rubber hose, a bouncy length of resilient black rubber more than two feet long. By now I had been around to instantly know that it wasn't a hose. For each end of the rubber instrument was shaped like the bulbous head of a huge black penis.

"Sweet fuck," I whistled in appreciation, "a two-headed dildo."

Professor Higgins grinned lasciviously. She clamped her fist around the middle of the long rubber cock. Shaking her fist, the glistening shafts of the prick of my fantasies bobbed and weaved their bulging heads like enraged sidewinder snakes. She took out a tube of K-Y Jelly and began to smear the lubrication over each glossy latex head.

"Oh, God, how does it work, as if I couldn't guess?" I gasped, peeling off my skirt and then yanking down my sopping panties, looking down and seeing the furry mound of my panting cunt thrust forward in anticipation.

"Just wait, my horny little pupil," Professor Higgins said with tantalizing firmness. Rubbing the jelly thoroughly over the twin heads of the dildo, she smiled and climbed on top of the desk. She abruptly pulled her shift dress over her head and doffed it to the floor, sitting there totally nude.

"Climb on up," she offered, spreading her legs so I could get a good shot of her inviting hairless cunt, its crimson lips puffily beckoning me toward them.

I hoisted myself onto the desk, my thighs quivering and my pussy lips vibrating in anticipation, the cream gushing from the inside of my hot cunt.

"Spread your legs -- wide! This is going to drive you wild," she promised.

I sighed with expectation and, parted my trembling thighs, exposing the full hairy borders of my dripping snatch, the turgid pussy lips parted in a sensuous vertical pout, the foaming interior waiting to be fucked. I fell back on my shoulders and totally gave my cunt to her.

With her massaging fingers, Professor Higgins parted the soggy lips of my pussy, the odor from the accumulated juice inside my cunt filling the room with its muskiness. Placing the huge head of one end of the artificial cock against the oozing mouth of my cunt, she applied pressure.

"Ooooh," I hissed as the black rubber bar slid deeply into my fuck-famished cunt. "Oooooh, God, drive it all the way through me," I begged.

Professor Higgins crammed about half the long prick into my voracious pussy, watching entrancedly as my cunt stretched into a wide O to receive the sexual bludgeon. "Now for me," she said.

The other end of the rubber dildo curved out from my parted thighs like a real cock, the free end twitching as throbbingly as any man's prick, only bigger, longer and harder. Professor Higgins straddled my hips, squatting over the swinging cock that jutted from my crotch, the slit of her shaved cunt stretching severely to accommodate the monster rod between us.

She smiled at me and said, "Now you see it just like a man does, only you're going to feel it like a woman."

She positioned the greasy end of the dildo against her own frothing cunt, closing her eyes in bliss as her hand forced the huge head through the immediately clinging lips of her spread pussy. Sighing, she lowered her cunt towards mine as the thick rubber cock disappeared up her fucking canal.

"Oh, Jesus," she gasped as her engorged cunt slid down the pole to smack against my pussy, the bursting exterior of her bare snatch pulsing through the mat of my pubic hair and chafing against my stiff clit and slimy pussy lips. Only a thin band of black rubber gleamed outside the slippery lips of our interlocked cunts, the wild tendrils of my pussy hair reaching out to seemingly caress the bare lips and red clit of the professor's pulsing wound.

I gasped as the force of the professor's descending hips drove the dildo another perilous inch into my cunt, squashing our pussy lips harder together, the tingling buds of our stiff clits grinding together in thrilling ecstasy. Looking down between the furrow of my spread thighs I saw that there was no visible sign of the dildo.

The solid mahogany desk rocked with our lust-driven shakes and shivers. Nearly three feet of flexible black rubber had laced our frothing slippery cunts together. The pressure of our hips, was driving each bulbous head of the rubber prick far into both our pussies, pushing hard against our engorged fucking canals and nudging maddeningly against our cervixes.

"Move with me," Professor Higgins rasped. She raised her hips, and with a sucking noise, about a foot of the latex prick slid out of her cunt -- and out of mine. The rubber bar glistened with lubricant jelly and the flow from our pussies.

Then, without warning, the professor lowered her hips once more, driving the gleaming length of the dildo slurping back into our agonized cunts, her bare pussy coated with stickiness and slapping against my hairy snatch.

I was enraptured as I groaned and wiggled my pelvis, moving as she had told me to do. The desk shook, throwing erotic vibrations shimmering through the rubber cable that joined our cunts. I thrust my ass down onto the desk top, compressing the spongy globes of my ass against the wood to cause a foot or so of rubber prick to slide out of our pussies. Then I thrust my hips upward again, ramming the hard rubber lance to the hidden depths of both our cunts.

"Oh, God, you've got it, baby," the professor cried. "Fuck me like a man, only better. Be a woman with a big, black cock. Fuck me, Melanie, fuck me with your big, black cock."

"Ooooh!" I responded with a feverish plea. "Give it to me. Cram that monster in me, now! Ooooh!"

Up and down we writhed and wrestled. Our flesh, sweaty with passion, slapped and bounced against the slick desk top. It seemed as though our cunts would split apart as they hunched and pounded their oozing engorgement together with bruising force.

The air was filled with the funky musk of flowing pussy juice, stronger and more erotic than the smell of any sperm as it mixed with the acrid odor of damp latex. The room reverberated with our soft moans and stark cries of delight, with the slurping smack of the dildo sliding through twin founts of soft flesh.

Professor Higgins leaned forward to embrace me, mashing her firm tits against my chest so I could feel my erect nipples rubbing against them through my sweater. Our arms entwined and our lips bruised together in a deep wet soul kiss as we fucked each other in the mouth with our darting tongues the same way we were fucking each other in the cunt with our massive, plunging, latex cock. Our slippery bodies rolled and writhed onto the desk blotter and off again onto the polished slippery wood, my hairy cunt welded to her shaved pussy.

Our hips moved like pistons against each other, fighting the huge, black snake that pinioned them together. In and out of our flowing pussies slid the enormous dildo, gleaming darkly with the twin secretions that bathed its tormenting length. Spreading dampness glistened off the top of the desk, making us slide wildly, our bodies clinging desperately to one another like we were fucking on ice.

Again and again each of us gasped and shuddered as simultaneous orgasms burst through us, flooding our coupling with erotic warmth as we bucked our pelvises against one another in climactic fury. As we came and came again, we moaned through our tonguing kisses.

Back and forth we rocked, like excited children on the seesaw of the enormous black dildo, its heads bisecting each of our creaming cunts as waves of orgasmic unity radiated through us while we groped and rolled on the wood and blotter. By now the top of the desk was practically flooded from the endless discharge of our foaming pussies as the cheeks of our jiggling asses splatted onto the sopping surface, the blotter feeling like a wet sheet beneath us. The wooden desk top was like thousands of tiny ball bearings, sliding us this way and then that way just as though we were on a waterbed, our cunts achieving fabulous positions and contractions that seemed to defy the law of gravity.

Finally, all of the orgasms that had been racking our entwined bodies built into one devastating cyclone of a climax and twisted through us, a tornado twisting our bodies around wildly before ultimately laying them on soft velvet. My cunt clutched the alien force inside me as the towering orgasm swept me away.

At last, exhausted and basking in the afterglow of a perfect fuck, we stopped our seesawing hips and tumbled side by side, smiling at each other in weary bliss and still joined by the rubbery loop of the glistening dildo.

"God," I moaned, "if I'd have come one more time, I think my cunt would've burned out all its fuses."

"I think mine are melted," Professor Higgins sighed and I reached over and threw my arms around her shoulders and shoved my knee gently between her thighs, feeling the slimy end of the dildo slide out at last as the pendulous, drooling lips of her cunt pressed wearily against me. I was grateful that I had one friend in the world who I could always count on.

CHAPTER EIGHT

With what I already knew about the rapist -- by now known in the local media as the Mad Rapist -- and what I picked up from the papers after each new attack, I was able to ascertain his pattern.

"He knows the precinct boundaries," I mused aloud. "It's like he's staying in that precinct for a reason. One night he's on the West Side -- let's see, here on the 27th he attacked on the West -- and the next time he's all the way across on the East -- on the 29th, here it is, a rape on East Buchanan. Then the next time he's right in the middle -- on the 30th, a rape in Coolidge Park. And he always returned to the scene of an earlier attack."

I rummaged excitedly through the pile of newspapers I had been studying for information on the rapist and found the most recent one. A rape on East Pierce last night, and mention of the one before that on West Hoover. Meaning that if I wanted to act as a decoy victim tonight, I could do a lot worse than put on my sleaziest looking clothes and go around Coolidge Park, the sinister jungle which infested the middle of the area, a park that had become so sordid that the City Department of Parks and Recreation had given up on it.

I got up and went to my closet looking for the kind of slutty clothes that would draw attention even on a dark night. It wasn't easy because I'm one chick who's got it together enough not to feel I have to put a frame around it to get a man interested. When I want a guy to get interested in me, I have plenty of ways to let him know without peddling my ass around. However, by reaching all the way to the rear of the closet, I managed to find some things from the days when I was less sure of my femininity and wore to those early job interviews where it was no secret nice tits and ass could get you a job when you couldn't even type your name.

I slipped into a tight sweater, the swell of my braless tits poking provocatively through the loose, revealing weave, my protruding crimson nipples startlingly apparent. I put on an ultra-mini buckskin skirt with no panties underneath, my cunt lurking just above the hem.

I did look pretty sexy. I got my purse and started to run out the door when I realized that I had forgotten something.

"My service revolver," I said aloud. But then I realized that I could do nothing about it, as I had had to turn it in when I was suspended from duty.

"What'll I protect myself with?" I asked aloud, as it occurred to me how in such a short time I had become so dependent on a cop's playthings, the crutches they all used.

"God, I really was getting more like them all the time," I admitted when I realized how I was behaving. "Gun or not, I've still got something none of those cocksuckers at the 69th precinct would think of using -- my brain."

So, unarmed, I left for Coolidge Park, certain that if it came down to it, I could defend myself with the judo I had picked up during police training.

The night was another bitch. It had been one of the worst winters ever -- rain one day, wind the next, fog, snow on other days -- but always cold. Tonight it was fog, a thick mattress of it covering the city. And the area around the 69th precinct was worse than any place else, almost as though a slum was entitled to nothing but the worst of everything, even including lousy weather.

It even seemed colder than anywhere else as I got off the bus in front of Coolidge Park, looking with some trepidation at its menacing exterior through the gloomy fog. The place hadn't been tended for years and had overgrown into startling proportions, shaggy plants, uncut grass, and wind-blown trees filled the misty night sky like portentous shadows of doom. Obviously, anybody entering the park was doing so at his or her own risk. A sign warned trespassers to keep out, and some jokester had drawn a leering skull and crossbones under the official warning along with the scrawled words, "Death City, USA".

The rapist had struck here three times before. One reason, I guessed, was that he was smart enough to know it was a relatively safe place for him because the cops are scared to death of places like this.

Well, I couldn't fool around out here in the street forever. Some cop driving by might think I was a stray hooker and run me in. I could just see them giving me a skin search at the station after they brought me in. Arrrggh, I almost puked from the thought of it as I walked briskly into the park, the prospect of facing a crazed rapist more appealing than thinking about the cops at the 69th precinct.

Within a few steps I was swallowed into the bowels of the park, the shadowy limbs of the overgrown foliage seeming to envelop me with their gloomy expanse, completely obliterating whatever light was shining from the moon, struggling to be seen through the fog.

The plant life had overgrown parts of the crumbling walk, frequently blocking my way and brushing wetly against me, the leaves sopping with moisture from the damp fog that swirled in the cold night air. After a couple of collisions with sopping, low-hanging branches, my sweater was drenched, clinging skintight to my body, my tits heaving and shivering from the damp cold.

I stumbled forward, trying to throw off the effects of the evil night, gritting my teeth and ploughing through. Then I was forced to stop as the vegetation had become so dense it looked like I needed a machete to hack my way through it.

There had to be some other way to get through, I reasoned, people walked across this park all the time. The trick was to find it in this soupy fog, which was growing thicker by the minute.

I groped one way and then another looking for a way out of my bind, but all my hands struck was wet foliage, the impact of my flailing arms spraying the air with added dew. Then, suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that didn't seem to be green, something white, a building of some kind. I walked toward it, hoping it wasn't the fog playing tricks on me, finally figuring out what it was only when my nose was practically pressing against it.

"The old park restroom," I said, shuddering at what it must be like inside after all these years, but anxious to get out of the wet cold for at least a moment's respite so I could get my bearings.

I found the gaping hole that used to be the door, which had long since been removed, rotting boards crisscrossing the crumbling opening, with enough of them broken and knocked away so that anyone could get in who wanted to.

The stench of boozy vomit and urine almost choked me as I crouched under a board and slipped inside. I couldn't see anything yet because of the total darkness, but my nose could tell me that the place was a total shambles. From the look of the knocked-away boards over the entrance, other people used this place, and God only knew who they were and for what.

It was a fairly big building, having housed adjacent men's and women's bathrooms with maybe ten toilets in each. Long ago somebody had drilled holes in the partitioning wall so people could look at each other piss and take a dump.

Suddenly it occurred to me as I looked across the room at the holes that they were all I could see. I wondered what the reason for that was, considering that the room on the other side of the wall presumably ought to be as dark as this one.

Unless, of course, there was a light in there and I was not alone in the building.

I walked to the wall and stood on a toilet and peered through one of the holes. There was a candle in the other room, flickering and erratic. It was stuck in the top of an old whiskey bottle, burning on the floor.

Somebody must be in there. I needed a better view of what was going on. I got off my perch and went to another toilet with a hole by it which would give me a different view. And then, just before I mounted my new platform and stuck my eye to the hole, I heard a distinct moaning waft through the thin wall, and I sensed that whatever I was going to be looking at was going to be highly private.

The moaning came from a young girl, probably not over 11 or 12. She was totally nude, the soft mounds of her budding tits making a nubile suggestion of impending womanhood, and the pink mound of her young cunt totally hairless except for a small wisp of light curly hair at the top. She was moaning because her mouth was filled with an erect prick that was buried so deep it was gagging her.

The man she was sucking was nude from the waist down, his muscular legs and tight ass tensing as he drove his stiff prick into the girl's distended mouth, exhorting her as he thrust, "Suck harder, harder, you little cunt, stuff it in your fucking little throat."

Her response to his ultimatum was to accelerate her sucking, her lips and tongue slurping over his massive tool. Even in the dim light I could see her eyes bulge as she forced herself to swallow his cock beyond all reasonable limits.

Her slightly flared hips undulated slowly as she sucked the big prick, her arm dropping downward so she could finger the exposed petals of her nubile cunt. In an instant two of her fingers were inside her pussy, the fingerfucking motion of her hand faintly squishing as she penetrated the inside of her young cunt. Her moaning continued unabated, the huge cock filling her mouth and her fingers reaming out her pussy.

As I watched, I didn't know whether I was disgusted or turned on. Socially, it was perverted. But on a personal basis, it was an absolute turn-on. I could feel my pussy glowing, the juices seeping through my quivering cunt lips and drenching my panty-less crotch and thighs with sticky fluid.

A spark of tension knotted in my belly, only serving to press against my touchy cunt, arousing me even more despite my disgust at the depraved spectacle I was watching.

Then something happened which almost knocked me off the toilet where I was standing and watching. The girl removed the cock from her mouth, and held it in front of her, rolling its slippery meat along the side of her smooth face as she licked it with her tongue, bathing the turgid male organ with slurping oral caresses. "Oh, Daddy," she pleaded, "please stick your big cock inside my cunt the way you always do. Pleeease, Daddy."

Daddy! He was her father! This man had his young daughter give him a blow job and now she was begging him to fuck her, spreading her thin legs so that her pared cunt seemed to burst forth between her narrow thighs, begging her father with the lewdest of invitations to stick his massive, adult prick up her childish cunt and fuck her.

This was the kind of crime a cop hates most, the abuse of a child. But then it occurred to me that I was no longer a cop, and found myself asking, how could it be abuse when she seems to be enjoying it so much?

It was clear now that the little girl loved what was happening to her, the little pink nipples of her softly forming titties puckering into small red knots that stuck out from her slim chest at least an inch as she fondled her father's huge, pulsing prick. I knew, from my own experience, that it's certainly possible to get turned on at a young girl's age, but I thought in terms of my own experience, stuffing candles up my cunt and tickling off my clit, not in terms of getting it on with one's own father, handling his heavy thick snake of a dick like a Las Vegas pro. Oh sure, I had wondered about my father's cock, especially if it was true that it could grow and get stiff, growing from the shriveled up squashiness I saw hanging from between his hairy legs when he got out of the shower. And sometimes I envisioned his imaginary stiff prick when I was masturbating, seeing it seem to float proudly like a knightly staff through the air as I teased my little clit to the bursting point. But that was it. At the time I don't think I knew that the real version of the imaginary erect prick I was dreaming about was designed to slide up a woman's cunt. All I knew was that thinking about cocks excited me, but I didn't know exactly why at that age. The idea of sucking and fucking my father? I couldn't contemplate it.

But the little girl I was watching sure could. She knew exactly what to do with that cock she had in her hands, and was just as much an expert with the dewy fuzzy cunt she was undulating and spreading between her spindly legs. Light as she was, she scaled her father's body, holding onto his unflagging cock at first for balance, and then clambering up his body so that her arms were encircled beneath his hairy arm pits and her slender hips were pressed against his belly, allowing her to begin the process of lowering her cunt over the twitching cock she wanted inside her so badly.

She wiggled her narrow ass daintily, brushing the head of her father's throbbing rod against her pouting pussy lips, tantalizingly searching for the slit which when opened would allow his prick to plough inside her, filling her taut, immature cunt with hot insistent cock. She did everything right, working her little ass down gradually until finally her dewy pussy lips lapped over the head of the pulsating cock, baptizing it with the first sticky drops of glistening pussy juice. Once the tip of the cock head was crowned by her grasping cunt lips, she slowly lowered herself down, fighting for every fraction of an inch of penetration as her tight young pussy swallowed the throbbing adult prick. Finally, the child had miraculously forced her diminutive pussy to take the huge cock, her father's balls looking grotesquely hairy and enormous against his daughter's pale, hairless crotch as they mashed against her soft skin.

I could hear the smack of the father's prick inside his daughter's tight cunt, a lubricious noise that vanished only when it was drowned out by the girl's high-pitched childish voice begging her father to "Fuck me harder, fuck me harder, Poppa. Stick that big thing all the way up my pussy."

Instantaneously I was forced to come to grips with myself as I realized what was actually the cause of my inner turmoil. My concern for the girl really vanished when I realized she was enjoying what was happening to her. The real conflict seething in me stemmed from my inability to acknowledge that I had secretly wanted my father to do the same thing this little girl was lucky enough to be getting, making me envious of her as I watched her suck her father's giant erect prick and then have it enter the frothing cavity of her precious pussy. I had never even gotten to see my father's dick stiff, and here I was jealously watching a young girl actually living the fantasies I had only barely dared to dream.

The night was still cold, but I was hot as a firecracker as I watched through the hole in the wall, the fucking reaching a fever pitch as the father and daughter thrust their pelvises together, their hips grinding together as her engorged young cunt continued to eagerly devour her father's thick, straining prick. As I watched, all my fantasies about my father's own cock materialized into one lewd image. I imagined my father's cock splitting my cunt as I thrust my fingers under the waistband of my skirt and seized upon the sopping gash of my cunt, momentarily feeling my thighs glazed by the constant flow of filmy cream from my throbbing pussy before I crammed my entire hand, balled into a fist, between my legs.

My attention to my cunt was reaping sticky results as, with the image of my father's ever stiff prick dancing through my head, I tore it further and further apart, expanding all five fingers from the ball of my fist so that they opened like a butterfly inside my cunt, pulling the walls to the ultimate of their spongy flexibility. The cream flowed like wine from my hopelessly aroused pussy, frothing to a bubbling lather that I could feel sliding gradually down my thrusting wrist and arm.

"Oh please, Daddy, come in me, come in me!" the girl was now crying. "Fill my cunt with cum! I can't stand to wait anymore!"

He answered by bucking his hips upward, lurching her frail body up in mid-air, at least three inches of connecting cock sliding out between them before she fell back down on him, her cunt popping as it swallowed the entirety of his fat adult prick once more, her whole body shivering with delight as her father imbedded his cock deeper within her girlish confines.

In the next room their groins ground against one another, his cock totally buried in her tight little cunt. Then, with a rumbling groan, he bucked forward, simultaneously holding his daughter down so that his lurch would drive him even further into her. I could see slimy rivulets of jizz oozing out of her cunt along the sides of his sloshing prick, the drooling overflow coating the bottoms of the spread cheeks of her tight little ass. As the cum started to rapidly accumulate, it began dribbling to the floor, the entire area between the little girl's legs becoming a creamy smear of dripping male jizz.

I jabbed and jabbed at my cunt, striving to come along with them, lusting for that feeling of total erotic inundation that could come only with sexual climax. But nothing I did to myself got me there, no matter how far I crammed my fingers up my cunt, no matter how violently I scraped my wrist against my turgid clit, no matter how vividly I imagined my father's hard cock filling my pussy. All that happened was that I got more excited, lewder, more wanton, more horny, aching for a real fuck, the promise of an obscenely stiff prick fulfilling itself by finally tearing up my cunt and ripping me in two.

My last glance into the next room revealed their fuck was over and he had pulled out of her and the daughter fell to her knees and lovingly lapped off the magic slime from her father's still twitching cock, still so hard that I imagined they would be here all night. But I wouldn't. I was too agitated to stay in one place. I had to move and shake off this maddening electricity that was pulsing through my loins. I had to go back out there and do what I came here to do.

I fled the bathroom and looked frantically for a short cut through the park. When I finally found it, I felt elated, but my helpless body was still irrevocably turned on and hungry for a fuck.

I could hear my cunt squish as I made my way deeper into the park, the fog surrounding me again, almost obliterating my vision as I progressed by touch and intuition. I tried to suppress the continuous sensation emanating from the depths of my throbbing pussy, but all my effort brought was further excitement between my cunt-juice-glazed thighs.

Feeling I couldn't go on like this, I sat down against a tree and pulled my skirt up to my waist, sending my fingers flying to my sopping cunt in furious masturbation so I could finally come and get on my way. But no matter how hard or creatively I manipulated my loose, sticky pussy lips and turgid, stiff clit, all that happened was that I got more turned on.

Realizing that it would take more than my busy fingers to make me come, and, struggling to live, with my incessant arousal, I got up and tried to put my cunt out of my mind, plunging forward in the misty darkness with an agonizing clutch between my legs.

I stumbled through the darkness, despairing of ever seeing light or open spaces again, so dark and increasingly dense was the sinister park. Then, suddenly, my eyes focused on a broad clearing, and as I burst free of the clinging vegetation that had been increasingly hampering me, I realized that I had found a meadow, long wet grass taking the place of the overhanging foliage. Up above, for the first time since I had entered the park, I could see the moon, its light faintly but distinctly struggling through the fog. I noticed that it was a full moon and felt an added eeriness shoot through my body, feeling with the fire between my legs that the mythical power of the full moon was going to turn me into something I couldn't control.

But I had to control myself. It occurred to me that I had to harness my twitching loins and put them to work to create a provocative picture that would attract the rapist if he was anywhere around, without leaving myself hopelessly vulnerable, a hapless victim of my own emotions. I smoothed my skirt down, plastering it over my aching hips and taut belly, feeling the steam of my cunt radiating under the fabric. Making no attempt to curb my swinging hips, I found a path cutting across the meadow and began walking slowly along it, really undulating forward rather than merely putting one foot in front of another. Every nerve in my body was searingly open, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. It occurred to me that, perhaps, revenge was what I was lusting for all along -- and the most primal kind of revenge: sexual revenge!

Yes, that was it, I was sure of it. The symbolism was just too glaring to ignore. I knew I had to tame the cruel cock of the rapist and avenge all the victims and Ted's death before I would finally feel the fires within me quell.

Spurred by my insight, I slung my hips viciously as I shimmied forward, calling out in the night to be attacked, set upon, brutalized, as I sought what I was certain was my inevitable avenging collision with the maniac they called the Mad Rapist.

CHAPTER NINE

I was on the far edge of the meadow when I first heard the noise, the sound of someone or something cutting through the tall grass, wet footsteps sloshing in the night.

It was far away, apparently on the other side of the meadow, but unmistakably coming toward me. I peered through the fog, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of whatever was following me. The mist swirled smokily over the expanse of the meadow, hanging like a stagnant cloud over the grass, defeating my attempt to see anything. However, I could hear the footsteps getting closer, closing in on me as I stood riveted at the edge of the meadow trying to anticipate what was going to happen.

And then suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, I saw it, my eyes picking up a wake of mashed grass that had been left in a trail before I distinguished a dark-clad figure moving in a straight line across the meadow toward me, now within feet of me instead of yards.

Something within me told me to run, that nothing would attract the figure -- if it was the rapist -- more than an apparently fleeing potential victim. You didn't attract a rapist by offering to fuck him, but by being afraid of him. No, it would be no fun if he thought you wanted to fuck. Force was the hallmark of deviate sex.

As I ran, the fog, which had momentarily abated, fell to the ground again, obscuring my path. Unexpectedly I felt the wet resistance of a large bush I had not seen and toppled backward, landing on a bed of cold, wet meadow grass, my skirt bunching around my waist as my legs parted reflexively from the impact of the spill, the hot mound of my panty-less cunt exposed to the night air, still aroused.

I struggled to get up, not wanting to face my potential assailant in such a helpless position. My hands and feet slid helplessly against the slick grass as I clambered vainly to get up, panic setting in when I realized from the ever-present footsteps that the figure in the fog was getting nearer and nearer, closing in on me.

And then, just when they were so loud they seemed to be crashing in my ears, the footsteps stopped. I cocked my head, searching for them, but there was nothing.

Maybe he lost me, I thought.

I began looking for some traction so I could at least get into a kneeling position to check out the situation. And then, as I moved my hands around, they were no longer touching grass. They were feeling something slick and hard.

Leather!

I was feeling a boot. A pair of boots were resting just inches from me. High-topped, tightly laced boots. Boots whose owner loomed above me right at this moment, holding me as helpless prey for his deranged desires. I was trapped.

I forced myself to look up and rasp, "I know you're there. Who are you?" The boots were so black they just seemed to melt into the night. Their owner was apparently clad in black to avoid detection, so that looking up only brought me a silent, misty cipher as a response to my question.

"Please, please," I pleaded, starting to become frantic, "at least say something... show yourself."

I heard the swishing rustle of leather being swept aside and realized from the air that whooshed above my face, curling the fog, that a cape or heavy cloak was being briskly swirled apart above me. And there before my bulging eyes was the evidence of its removal -- over a foot of gleamingly pink, jutting cock, the biggest prick I had ever seen.

I had heard and read enough descriptions of it to know that I was face to face with the legendary cock of the Mad Rapist, looming garishly out of a totally black background, seeming to penetrate the foggy air like a thunderbolt from outer space. It seemed to hang over me like a guillotine as I struggled to get up, slipping and sliding on the wet grass, the cheeks of my bare ass grinding into the soggy morass of the drenched meadow. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make any progress. At first I blamed it entirely on the slippery grass, but finally realized that it was more than that. My cunt seemed anchored to the ground, begging, for the most dangerous cock to which it had ever been exposed.

It was clear now. I was the hopeless prisoner of indecision, my brain screaming for me to flee and my cunt begging me to stay, my helpless body paralyzed by the tumult raging within it. As I cringed, throwing my arms over my face in terror, my cunt did just the opposite, thrusting itself upward, foaming at the swollen lips and begging to be fucked, wantonly lusting for the thrill of thrills.

I didn't have long to wait as leather-gloved hands, invisible in the misty darkness, grasped my hips, pulling the lower part of my body upward, drawing my lusting cunt toward the twitching cock that filled my eyes with its glistening immensity. Kneeling, the darkly invisible figure gradually lowered itself to meet my loins midway until, shockingly, I felt the first nudge of the enormous prick against my straining hungry pussy, the drooling lips of my cunt sliding against the powerful prick.

My assailant was in no hurry, having been so successful at his wanton avocation that he had apparently become supremely confident, arrogantly taking his time to administer his cock to his victims as though he were casually fucking them in a suburban bedroom with the shades pulled down. The enormous cock head pressed against my cunt lips, pulling them apart with its hard insistence, making way for a plunging descent down the throbbing expanse of my frothing fucking canal. When it had worked its way past my pussy lips, so that the pulsing head was nestled in my pussy, the cock's owner made a brisk thrust and sent the battering tool at least six inches inside me, a normal load for an average-sized cock, but just the beginning for this one-eyed monster, inches and inches of it still glowing in the misty air, poised on the brink of slashing through me, tearing my runaway cunt to pieces with its pounding fury.

I reached up toward my attacker, seeking to scratch his face. But all I found was more leather, my fingernails skidding off it as I attempted to grapple with my assailant, realizing that he was wearing a leather mask to conceal his identity.

My intensely pulsing cunt told me to throw my hands around the invisible shoulders, bringing the bulk of my assailant closer to me. I pulled his mysterious bulk toward me as I grasped the leather, gouging my nails into it to keep my grip. As our bodies met, my tits rubbing through the flimsy sweater against the slick, exciting leather, I could feel the enormous prick pushing further between my legs, splitting my cunt with its unparalleled length, filling the sopping hole between my legs beyond its capacity with hot cock.

By now my rationality had been totally eclipsed by the steaming influence of my cunt, the sparks of reason thoroughly doused by an ocean of lust, my body throwing off the influence of all stimuli except for the aching need to be fucked as hard as possible. Never had I felt a cock so hard inside me and I wasn't going to let it go. Its rigidity was phenomenal, more like a precision instrument, a fucking machine, than a cock, so tensile was it. It didn't even seem to throb, so hard was the immense cock between the clenching vise of my spread legs. My groans filled the lonely night air, swirling upward to be swallowed by the unquenchable fog as I writhed under the onslaught of the massive prick that rent my totally helpless body. The rapist was up against me now, but I could still detect nothing as I gasped at the face covered with a black leather mask with only slits for the eyes and mouth. It was like being fucked by a nightmare -- there was no identity, just a vengeful, disembodied prick sweeping out of nowhere to assuage the swollen tissues of my starving cunt.

"Say something, say something," I pleaded as I felt the steel prick grinding away in my pussy, slanting upward so that it seemed to fill my belly with its thrusting enormity, invading my body like an alien force intent on taking over my being. I instinctively thrust up my legs, wrapping them around the anonymous leather form pressing against me, using the flex of my crossed ankles to force my attacker deeper and deeper inside of me, not willing to cease straining until the whole incredibly long dick was fully imbedded in my steaming cunt.

Despite my pleas, the attacker remained mute, hardly seeming to breathe as he continued to pump away in me like a robot with a haywire transistor for a libido. I could almost feel the nuts and bolts of his steel body as I hung onto him for dear life, pushing and shoving until at last I could take no more up my cunt, his swollen cock filling my pussy to the ultimate. I reached between my sopping legs and frantically felt my crotch welding to his, my sopping pussy hair matting wetly against his slick leather. My heart leapt as I realized that I had accomplished my impossible goal -- there was no space between us. I had succeeded in swallowing his mammoth prick whole with my cunt, gorging my pussy with prime meat.

I laid in the grass, waiting to be fucked into oblivion, anxious to be swept away on a tide of spurting cum toward a devastating orgasm.

I felt the cock sliding out, pulling my pussy lips with it, and was sure that in an instant it would plunge back in to the hilt, preparing for the ultimate explosion of molten sperm that I yearned to have dripping from my insides. But to my astonishment, the prick kept sliding until it was completely out and my cunt drooled, screaming to be fucked once again.

But my throbbing pussy was unattended as the head of the cock boldly traced the seam that divided my crotch and then centered on the puckering ridges of my quivering asshole.

"Oh, God," I screamed, "if you stick it in there you'll rip me in two," wishing all the while that he would do just that, tearing me apart with the brutal instrument of sexual destruction that vibrated like a chain saw between his legs.

My asshole was bone dry, but lubrication would have diminished the ultimate thrill I felt when he rammed his huge cock into me, his unstoppable cock tearing past the tight opening and spearing up my ass. The intense pain made my teeth chatter as the rampaging cock ripped through me, squeezing tight tissues of my ass and thrusting into the warmth of my colon, distending my gurgling bowels with its insistence.

I was skewered on his cock, wiggling on the end of his sturdy lance like a wounded prey, my insides melting from the red hot sensation permeating my cunt and bowels. Adding to the intensity, my assailant crunched his hand to my pussy, actually seizing my clit, virtually grabbing it between two fingers and squeezing the turgid bud. The electricity from the pain surged through me, my anguished throbbing clit sending out signals of sweet agony, the brutality that was ravaging my crotch horrifying me on the one hand, and filling my compliant body into waves of horny lust on the other.

I pushed back as hard as he shoved that monster prick up my ass, thrusting up at him so that the lance-like cock almost staked me to the ground. I threw my cunt at his fingers, its drooling lips pulling aside to grab two of his fingers and snatch them down into the ravenous mouth, my pussy craving any stimulation available. His thumb crashed against my clit, and he used another finger to pinch and pull it, swelling the diminutive organ to twice its size so that it felt like a miniature cock growing at the top of my cunt. I ground against him, his hand in my pussy and his mammoth prick in my ass swirling deeper and deeper inside as I sucked him in, stretching and straining and squeezing to accommodate every extra inch I could get from that sonofabitch.

I wanted to wait for his crash of sperm, but I couldn't wait any longer -- my orgasm approached rapidly. I gave into my impulses and instantaneously a flood of orgasm inundated me, surging through me like a tidal wave. I could feel my long-sought anal orgasm. It felt like a vibrating, red hot electric rod had been inserted up my asshole, branding me with molten heat. My bowels gurgled as the anal orgasm seized my colon, bathing it in its heat. I was an inferno inside as my hot shit lapped up against the head of the monster cock which surged all the way through my asshole to my quivering inner depths.

His whole hand was inside my gaping cunt by now, filling it with busy fingers that swarmed inside my pussy. My cunt vibrated tautly from the onslaught of my coming, its fire heightened by my engorged ass. My swollen clit stuck out at least an inch and a half, as I could feel it strain at the top of my pussy to try and ejaculate just like the prick that it increasingly resembled. My distended crotch went into a dance, my ass and cunt grasping and clutching and sucking at the twin forces, my orgasmic juices flowing so freely that steam was rising from the hot fluids oozing out of me and hitting the cold night air. Bubbles of pussy juice burst wetly in the fog as the onslaught of my coming lathered up a headier and headier brew, the foaming cream gushing from my bruised fuck-engorged tissues in thick streams. My asshole convulsed and convulsed again, pushed hopelessly out of shape by the enormous cock.

Now only one thing remained for this to be the perfect ending of my police career, to feel his angry torrent of scalding cum tear loose inside me, filling me with thick, rich jizz. I did everything I could to make it happen, practically splitting myself in two as I ground down on that monster prick, trying to suck it inside out with my grasping ass. I sat up on him and made a complete revolution on his standing cock, slowly rotating the massive tower within me, feeling the contours of the flanged head swirling against my pulsing inner tissues. I crunched down, bearing down and gyrating on top of his loins, my slobbering pussy drooling onto his stomach, leaving a glistening pool of cunt dew on his black leather.

But nothing happened.

There was no cum.

It got to be like a kind of a contest as I accelerated my efforts time after time and the rapist stayed completely stiff, refusing to yield a drop of precious sperm. He let me take any position I wished to try to make him come, but my wildest gyrations and acrobatics produced nothing.

In desperation, I pulled his cock painfully from my ass and banged my cunt down on it, filling my pussy once more with the mammoth male tool, hoping the change might fulfill my yearning wish to be inundated with buckets of thick male cream. But my pussy was no more successful than my asshole, his stubborn cock standing stiffly aloof as it filled my snatch.

How could this be happening to me? It was like a pit with no bottom. I begged for an eruption of come, the fluid that I was sure would finally anoint me. Without his jizz pouring in me, I'd have failed. I would have failed to tame the rapist, failed to bring his cock down.

"My God, you freak!" I blurted as an insight suddenly hit me. "That's why you rape women when you could get anybody you wanted with no trouble with a cock like yours. You hate all women because no matter how big and how hard you get it up, you still can't come. So you're going to get even with them by raping them, by blowing their minds with that monster prick, by stuffing in their pussies and asses and getting them all turned on in spite of themselves, and then punishing them by not coming. You won't be satisfied until you've humiliated every woman in the world."

I looked toward the leather masked face for a response, but saw the same impassivity as before, no hint showing of the person inside all that shimmering black leather.

"That's it," I screamed in frustration, furiously pulling myself off his massive cock, its length coursing so long out of my cunt that it looked like an obscene magic trick.

I leapt on him, beating him with my fists, screaming, "Admit it, admit it, you lousy motherfucker, that's why you're doing this. You hate women, you're trying to get even with them because you're not man enough to come. Show yourself, you rotten degenerate."

I pounded on his chest, feeling my fists surprisingly striking something softer than I had expected. My blows brought results, the rapist reacting in pain from my striking fists and mobilizing himself to defend himself. His arms crashed against mine, sending my hand up toward his neck with the impact. I moved my hand, but felt a drag and realized that my fingernail had caught in something. A zipper! As I shielded myself from his flailing with my free arm, I grabbed hold of the zipper and ripped it downward, the parting of the teeth screeching beyond proportion in the night. My eyes gleamed as I anticipated what was beneath the leather -- the rapist's flesh.

The gleam turned into a glaze as my eyes bugged from my ashen face, my head reeling with abject shock as severe as pressing a hot wire to my clit.

The chest was bare, soft and smooth, almost glowing in the dark because of its pinkness. What? Could this be, my mind screamed to me as I grabbed the leather flaps which the zipper had opened and pulled them fiercely apart, exposing the full chest and confirming my desperate suspicion.

Two shimmering tits rose throbbingly on the rapist's chest, twin globes of erotic perfection with exquisite crimson nipples standing stiffly like whips of red frosting on a birthday cake. They were compact, hard tits of the kind one dreams about in one's erotic lesbian fantasies, when you're lying alone in bed some Sunday morning wishing you had something fine to wrap your legs around and fuck and suck.

"What's going on?" I blurted like the fall guy in some comedy sketch as I straddled the now still figure, unable to take my eyes from the pulsing tits heaving in the night air, framed by fog and black leather.

Burning with frustration I reached down and tore into the leather costume, madly searching for any buttons or zippers so I could find an answer to this insane riddle. Near the waist I found the button that cinched the waistband of the pants, the zipper open to accommodate the still twitching prick, as long and as hard as it had been from the beginning. I grabbed the waistband and pulled with all my might, feeling the button rip off and squirt up through my fingers before it sailed off into the grass.

The pants were open! I couldn't believe it as I pulled down on them, pushing them frantically past the groin.

The cock was still as big and hard as ever, but suddenly it looked completely different to me.

Elastic straps were fastened to its base and circled the loins. An elastic belt around the waist secured it from the top. The balls looked flat and sterile because they were plastic. I put my hand tentatively around the long stem of the prick and looked askance at the bulging head, realizing with a shock that the legendary Mad Rapist's mythical cock was a fake.

"You've been raping these women with a dildo!" I shrieked.

I grabbed the fake latex cock, my grip transformed from timid to tenacious now as I scoffed at the feature of the artificial prick which only a few minutes earlier had me coming in waves. The detailed attempts by the manufacturer to make this thing look like it was real seemed pathetic to me, as I reveled in the increasing tide of what looked like my total triumph. I ripped contemptuously at it, pulling vigorously at it until the straps snapped and it tore away from the body.

I threw the dildo haughtily to the ground and focused on the quivering groin before me.

It was a cunt! A beautiful, rounded mound of uniquely female flesh, a crimson cleft forming between the lips, all totally visible because it was hairless. The owner abruptly parted her legs, bending at the knees to stretch in the fallen trousers, spreading her thighs so wide that the pussy breath steamed from her pared cunt.

"You're one of those Goddamn sex-change freaks, aren't you?" I brayed, desperately trying to keep a grip on myself. "You were tired of being a fag, so you got one of those perverted operations, and now you're getting even with your female competition because you still can't make it."

But the words rang hollow in my ears. Something told me that what I was saying was just hot air, that I was talking just to hear myself talk so I wouldn't have to face the truth.

The revealing evidence was right there in front of me but I resisted letting myself recognize it, fighting to remain in control of the situation, clinging to the belligerence of my cop instincts.

But, ultimately, my resistance crumbled, becoming defenseless under the onslaught of my impulses. I reached out for the bare cunt and felt it, recognizing the familiarity of its soft open lines.

I looked again at the bare tits and felt them with my other hand, instantly recognizing the swirl of the nipple as my probing finger scraped the sensitive ridge around the puckering knot.

My God, I knew these tits, this bare cunt! My closest confidant, the person -- the woman -- I respected most was the so-called Mad Rapist!

"Professor Higgins!" I exclaimed. "It's you!"

The hands went to the face and began wriggling the mask from the head. Finally it was off, the face fully exposed. The smile that had beckoned me so many times across the mahogany desk blazed at me incandescently, cutting through the mist of the fog with its gleam.

"Yes, it IS you. It is."

Now things started to come back to me, especially something I had seen the last time I was in her office. That drawer in the file cabinet full of rubber and leather things from which she'd drawn the two-headed dildo that we fucked each other with. That drawer was full of sexual appliances and paraphernalia, her equipment as the rapist. I'd been looking at the costume of the Mad Rapist that day in her office.

"But why?" I pleaded. "Why only in the 69th precinct?"

The smile remained fixed on her face, but no words came forth.

"Did it have something to do with me?"

For the first time there was some animation beyond the smile on her face as she nodded, but there were still no words.

Suddenly it occurred to me that there were going to be no easy answers forthcoming from her. This was some kind of desperate game where she would tease me until the last, forcing me to torturously come up with the answers on my own. My mind reeled as I frantically searched for a solution to the puzzle.

"You wanted me, didn't you? You wanted to prove that only a woman could catch you, that you were too much for any man."

She nodded her head again.

"But don't you see," I cried, "by doing this you've incriminated both of us. We each know too much about the other. There's no way I can turn you in -- which makes me as much a criminal as you -- but I can't let you continue to run wild. What will we do?"

She showed me.

She reached toward me and embraced me, sending her hot lance of a tongue into my open mouth, which was still agape from astonishment, filling it with fleshy, gurgling desire as her tongue rammed down my throat. I felt helpless to do anything other than return her passion as she pulled me toward her so that I fell on top of her, our exposed cunts meeting in a kiss as wet as the one of our mouths, our drooling pussy lips smacking together in sticky union, our clits acting like miniature tongues as they rubbed against each other.

With our bodies free of the dildo, we slid compactly into an erotic embrace, our bodies seeming to be made for each other. My heaving tits rubbed across her spike-like nipples and our legs wrapped around each other like inseparable vines, our cunts welded together so that the juices mixed and our pussy lips and clits seemed to fuse. I realized for the first time what an obstacle a cock was when it came to fucking. Nothing could beat the sheer delight and naturalness of one cunt rubbing against another, the two gashes sucking hungrily at each other, never satisfied until they had sucked the other one inside.

Pressing my body even tighter against hers, I undulated my hips slowly and rhythmically, fucking her with my clit, positioning my throbbing pelvis so that the erect knob actually penetrated Professor Higgins' hairless pussy to the extent that I could feel her cunt wall closing in to accommodate it.

It was just before I started to come that I realized, bizarre as it seemed, things had turned out for the best after all. "Of course," I blurted, feeling her hard sensuous body writhing beneath me as I fucked her in the fantastic fashion that only a woman can fuck another woman, "this means we'll always have to be together so we can keep each other's secret. Jesus, is that why you did it?"

I could see her head nodding yes, her eyes gleaming with ecstasy as I pumped and pumped again between her parted thighs with my thrusting cunt and penetrating clit.

"But why?" I cried. "You know how I've always felt about you. All you had to do was ask."

And then she spoke for the first time. "It was more fun this way. Now, remember who's the pupil and who's the professor and shut up and fuck me and forget there was ever such a creature as a man."

Like an honor student, I did what the teacher told me.

THE END

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