I tried to think clearly while he was gone—tried to decide what to do. He had me helpless—my wrists were handcuffed behind me and my feet were wrapped together with my belt. If I had time, I could probably get my feet out of the belt—but I didn’t have time. There was no way I could get out of the handcuffs without a key. I had no choice but to try to please him.
All I could do was hope that he wouldn’t decide to shoot me after he’d had his fun.
But I tried to believe that he wouldn’t go that far. I reasoned it out that he wouldn’t be able to justify shooting me—not naked and handcuffed in my own apartment.
If only Brad would come home.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall, then the cop came in with two beers—and something else: a can of Crisco. He grinned at me, then sat on the bed and guzzled the first bottle down without breathing. He belched loudly and started on the second bottle—now playing with the lump in his crotch, which had gone soft—always watching me with those cold green eyes. He unzipped his fly and pulled his prick out, then his balls. He was uncircumcised, and he toyed with his foreskin, teasing it open and closed over the large head—shining slickly where it peeped out. He ran his finger around inside the foreskin, over the ridge of his cockhead—sipping the beer—watching me.
He finished the beer and stood up. His cock arched out from his crotch, still limber, flopping back and forth as he moved. It was as big as I’d ever seen. Maybe bigger.
And, god, it excited me.
He excited me.
I thought: I’m as crazy as he is.
He lowered himself onto my chest, kneeling over me, slowly milking his flaccid prick in front of my face. “Make it hard,” he whispered. “Make it hard for your Master.”
I lifted my head and he guided his cock into my mouth—first the cold nozzle of foreskin, then the thick, salty, cheesy head—through my lips, down my tongue…
“Oh… Jesus…” he whispered. “Oh, yeah, suck on it. Suck that big cop-cock, Snow White. You got a cop’s prick in your mouth. A great big fuckin’ cop-cock in your fuckin’ queer mouth. Oh, you queer cocksucker, suck on that big prick. Suck it, goddamn you.”
He heaved himself over me and rammed his groin hard into my face—and I swallowed his incredible organ, all the way down. My body was tingling and twitching insanely as I swallowed and swallowed, milking his big prick, making it harder and harder inside my throat. He urged it in deeper and deeper until I couldn’t breathe—I was swimming in blackness, retching uselessly—nothing could get past that big shaft down my throat. My lungs were on fire.
Then he pulled out—and it felt like he’d ripped my throat wide open. He raised up, pumping his cock, his big hairy balls dancing on my nose and my lips. Cop’s balls. “Suck them.” He commanded. I sucked one in, then the other—and they filled my mouth. Hot, hairy cop balls filling my mouth as he pounded his big prick above my open eyes.
He held my face and eased his balls out of my mouth, then worked his way down my body, backing up until my stiff cock touched the tight leather covering his ass—bent back painfully—and then slapped forward onto my belly. He laughed and grabbed my cock, twisting the skin until it felt like it was on fire. Then he twisted my balls. The pain coursed through my body with each twist, and I strained every muscle to keep from screaming—until finally, at the instant I thought I would pass out, he let go.
I sank back onto the floor, my body shuddering uncontrollably.
He turned me over, facedown, and ran his fingers over my ass. He pulled the cheeks open, opened the can of Crisco, dipped his fingers into it, and spread the cold grease all around my tense asshole. First one finger slipped in—then two—one from each hand—and he pulled the sphincter open…
Then his great body was over me—zippers and buttons cutting my skin—and I could feel the big head of his cock inching into my asshole. The feeling was nothing but raw pain, engulfing my body completely. Then, suddenly, the head was inside. I sobbed as he pressed it in deeper—and deeper—and I yelled.
Both hands grabbed my mouth. He rammed his prick all the way up into my guts. It felt like my body had split apart.
“Oh, Jesus.” he whispered. “I’m in you, man. All the way up your ass. You got the biggest cock on the force up your ass, you queer sonofabitch. So you’re not a virgin anymore, are you, Snow White? How does it feel? Does it feel good? Do you like it?”
I couldn’t have answered, even if his fingers hadn’t been crushing my jaw. The pain had become something else—a feeling so thrilling I couldn’t even think.
Then he started a slow pumping, with his body pressed hard against mine, just his hips moving, his fantastic prick reaming my guts out. My own cock was about to explode.
I felt something cold on the back of my head. I knew it was the gun. The cop was breathing heavily in my ear as he fucked, and he whispered: “Okay… Snow White… are you ready? We’re gonna… all shoot together. And you’re gonna shoot… like you never shot before. Me… too.”
“Warren.”
A door slammed, something crashed, and a blurred, snarling beast collided with the cop, knocking him off me. I saw Brad’s face for an instant—hideous with fury—as his fist crashed into the man’s stomach. I heard them both land on the floor. Flesh slammed into flesh… and then silence—except for Brad’s gasping for breath.
He crawled into the closet and grabbed some thin, elastic belts, which he quickly wrapped around the unconscious cop’s wrists and ankles.
Then he stood up weakly, panting, and sat on the bed, looking down at me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and passed out.
I was lying on the bed when I woke up, still naked, but no longer handcuffed or tied. Brad was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me anxiously. He was holding my hand, and when I opened my eyes, his fingers tightened around mine. “Are you okay?”
I grunted. “I’m still alive… I think. Where is he?”
Brad nodded toward the other side of the bed.
I leaned up and looked over—and laughed.
The cop lay on the floor, his arms behind him, apparently handcuffed, his ankles wrapped with elastic belts. A towel was tied around his mouth. His eyes were open, watching me cautiously as I peered over the edge of the bed.
I lay back on the bed and found Brad’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
“Well.” I said. “That was fun.”
“You idiot.” he yelled. “He almost killed you.”
“Don’t call me names. If you’d been home…”
He nodded quickly. “I’m sorry. I can explain everything.”
“It’s okay,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You came home just in time. That’s fine.”
“What’ll we do with him?” Brad asked.
I sat up on the bed and crossed my legs, yogi-style, and studied the cop. “I don’t know,” I said, knowing he was hearing every word. “What do you do with a crazy police officer who rapes you and almost blows your brains out? What do you do with such a total asshole?”
“We could blow his brains out—and call it self-defense. Who would know different?”
The cop made a strangled noise and tried to sit up.
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t kill anybody—even him. No, we’ve got to deliver him to his own…”
“Does Ash have a lawyer? Let’s ask somebody what we can do so this sonofabitch never bothers anybody again.”
“Nnnnnnn.” The cop had sat up and was shaking his head desperately. “Nnnnnnn.”
“I think he’s trying to tell us something,” I said.
“Be careful.”