The door creaked open with a plaintive squeal. Rachel bit her lip, poking her head into the dark room that Isabella was doomed to spend the rest of her life in.

She was kneeling limply, head down, the sweat of her first rape still gleaming on her tanned skin. It was the middle of summertime, and though the rest of the cabin was well-ventilated with open windows and fans, the storage room Isabella was locked in had only a single window, firmly shut, locked, and curtained. It became a stuffy, choking hotbox in the day.

John was sound asleep in the bedroom, his belly full and his balls drained by Rachel’s diligent service, and that meant she had some time to herself to play with their new toy. He wouldn’t mind, she was sure, as long as she didn’t break anything.

Rachel shut the door behind her with a gentle bump of her rear. John’s cum was still warm in her womb from their post-dinner lovemaking, thick dollops occasionally sliding down the inside of her thigh when she moved. She leaned down in front of Isabella’s kneeling form, inspecting her.

Isabella never wore much makeup, but there was enough to form ugly black trails over her cheeks from her tears. A band of ugly purple circled her slender neck, and bloodstains still marred her back. Her wrists were chained above her, the fingers of one hand broken and crumpled.

“Psst.” Rachel pressed her lips against Isabella’s forehead, licking the salty sweat from her skin. “Time to wake up.”

“Nnngh.” Isabella groaned, pulling weakly away. “R-Rachel?”

“Mmhmmm.” Rachel smiled, caressing Isabella’s smooth cheek. “I’m here now.”

“Are you—” Isabella coughed, wincing in pain. “Are you gonna let me go?”

Rachel’s smile widened. She cupped Isabella’s chin, pulling it up until their eyes met, then shook her head. “No.”

Isabella stared back stiffly. “Then why are you here?”

“I just felt like having some girl time, you know?” Rachel winked, revealing the gun she’d been hiding behind her back: a polished Glock 17. Isabella’s gun. She stuck the barrel into Isabella’s face and gave it a little wave. “Open up, Bella.”

Isabella didn’t react at first. She stared blankly at the gun, then up into Rachel’s pretty blue eyes. She thought of the disgusting sensation of John’s cock throbbing and flexing deep inside her, of the way she’d panicked and screamed and given him everything he’d wanted in her wild attempts at escape, and she was filled with a deep shame.

A part of her recognized the futility of it. What would be the point in fighting, in putting on some tough facade when there was video footage of her being raped like an animal? She’d lost all self-respect already, hadn’t she?

But she was a proud woman, and she hated being told what to do.

She shook her head firmly.

Rachel cocked her head. “No?” She pressed the gun barrel against Isabella’s lips, letting her feel the smooth, cold steel.

Isabella’s brow hardened, but she didn’t say anything. A bullet to the skull was hardly a threat after what they’d already done to her.

“Hmm.” Rachel straightened up, tapping the gun thoughtfully against her chin.

She hummed to herself, strutting over to Isabella’s discarded clothes and bending over. Isabella couldn’t help but cringe when she saw the cum welling in her partner’s wet pussy.

“You slept with him?”

“I made love to him,” Rachel said, straightening up. She held Isabella’s nightstick in her free hand.

"You're just an object to him," Isabella growled. "He’s using you.”

Rachel answered by closing the distance with two long steps and swinging the nightstick hard into Isabella’s bare breasts. “You are the only one being used here, you cocky little slut. By both of us!” She scowled, walking behind Isabella while the bound officer gasped for breath, eyes wide after the punishing blow.

Rachel hit her again, in the back this time, causing her to grunt in pain and arch her back. There was a jingling and a slight pull on her wrists, and Isabella fell forwards as she was unbound from the chain holding her in place.

Immediately Rachel was on top of her. The blonde grabbed her manacles tight as she planted a knee in the small of her back, grinding her breasts into the grimy floor and pinning her in place.

Isabella growled as her cheek was shoved into the floor, squirming under Rachel’s knee. “You’d better hold me tight, Rachel, cause I swear to God if you let me go I’ll put a fucking bullet through your skull!”

“Shut up!” Rachel smacked the nightstick across the back of Isabella’s toned thighs, causing her to tense and hiss with pain. “You’re gonna wake up John!”

“That’s what you’re fucking worried about? Really?” Isabella scoffed. “Guess I’ll fucking scream, then!” She drew in a breath—as deep as she could with her chest pinned between the hard floor and the knee in her back—only for Rachel to clamp a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, I’ll make you scream, all right,” she purred. Isabella snarled into Rachel’s hand, twisting her head about like a muzzled dog as the nightstick’s cold tip trailed down her back, around the tight curve of her buttocks, and came to a stop over her asshole.

Isabella’s eyes widened.

Rachel grunted as she shoved the nightstick forwards, pressing it against Isabella’s anus. Isabella cried out against her hand, kicking and squirming and bucking, but there was nothing she could do.

“Hold still, you stubborn cunt!” Rachel hissed, twisting the nightstick side to side. Isabella went stiff, focusing on clenching her asshole tight, her muscular ass bulging out with the strain as fresh sweat broke out on her skin. But Rachel had leverage, and no matter how strong Isabella fought, she was going to lose eventually.

Isabella screamed as the nightstick finally overwhelmed her, squeezing into her anus and sending a mind-numbing lance of pain up her spine. She thrashed like an animal, her shrieks muffled by Rachel’s hand as she was violated one agonizing inch at a time. Rachel sneered down at her from above, her bare nipples stiffening and her pussy swelling with arousal as she shoved the stick deeper still, careless of the dark red blood drooling down Isabella’s rippling thighs.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” Rachel taunted, giving the stick another sadistic shove. “You gonna do what I say, or are you going to make me gut you with a fucking blunt object?”

Isabella shook her head, her squirming redoubling. She’d be damned if she broke again, no matter the pain! She growled, snapping at Rachel’s hand as best she could with her teeth—

—and immediately fell to pieces again as Rachel forced three more inches of hard metal up her ass.

She couldn’t take it. Isabella’s chest heaved with a wretched sob as she rolled wildly under her old partner, a puddle forming between her thighs as she pissed herself.

“You had enough yet?” Rachel asked again. She let go of the nightstick, spanking Isabella’s ass and giving it a rough shake. “Ready to do what I say?”

Isabella sobbed, going limp and offering a weak nod.

“Kiss my hand,” Rachel said, leaning in. “Suck my fingers.”

As much as it shamed her, Isabella did as she was told, pressing her soft lips gingerly against Rachel’s palm and accepting her slender fingers into her mouth. She caressed them with her tongue, suckling them gently until she was interrupted by Rachel’s middle finger shoving itself down her throat and forcing a shuddering retch from her.

“Good girl.” Rachel stood up, leaving Isabella prone with half a nightstick shoved up her ass. She flipped her onto her back with one foot, grinning as the movement disturbed the nightstick and caused her to wince and hiss with fresh pain. “Now, open your mouth.”

Isabella opened her mouth. Rachel pushed the thick barrel of her gun inside, and Isabella wrapped her lips snug around it with a resigned groan. She closed her eyes, letting Rachel ease the gun in and out.

“Moan,” Rachel commanded, her free hand roaming down to finger herself. “Suck it like you mean it!”

More tears dripped down Isabella’s cheeks as she forced out a husky moan, twisting her head side to side with quivering lips. She tongued the barrel, grimacing at the oily taste, her cheeks flushed a deep red with shame. She hated this. She hated being this. She felt like a slut.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the gun was pulled out and replaced with something warm, wet, and stinking of sex. She flinched as Rachel sat on her face, pressing her pussy against her lips.

“Now eat me out!” The sound of a hammer being cocked preceded the gun’s cold muzzle poking against her smooth belly. “Or I’ll gut shot you and leave you to bleed out.”

The threat was barely necessary. Isabella had already given up, and to be honest having her old partner’s cunt rubbed in her face was the nicest thing that had happened to her so far. She stuck her tongue out, cringing as a thick, musky cream dripped into her mouth..

“Something wrong?” Rachel purred. She bit her lip, grabbing one of Isabella’s perky, bruised tits and kneading the flesh around her nipple. “Can you taste John’s cum in there? He packed it into me not even a half hour ago.” She tightened her grip, squeezing until Isabella tensed with pain. “Eat it.”

Isabella froze, shivering in disgust as the drop of cum slid down her tongue and towards the back of her throat. She thought back to the shame she’d felt when he’d pumped his load into her womb. Now she would have to take in more of him, willingly, in her mouth? Would no part of her be left unsoiled by his repulsive seed?

Rachel leaned forwards and grabbed the nightstick. “Eat it!”

The thought of that pain coming back quickly overpowered her reservations. Isabella leaned up and buried her tongue deep into Rachel’s snatch, scooping John’s seed out with long flicks of her tongue and swallowing it down quick as she could, trying to race past the taste.

“Good girl.” Rachel grinned, keeping her grip on the nightstick as she began to twist her hips and grind into Isabella’s face. She sighed, closing her eyes and listening to the quiet schlicking of Isabella’s tongue against her pussy. “Do a good job now. I’ll let you rest once you get me off.”

Isabella sobbed into Rachel’s cunt. She tilted her head back, pursing her lips around Rachel’s clit and swirling her tongue around the little nub, suckling and licking as Rachel rode her face and drooled cum over her chin.

Rachel let out a breathy moan, her voice shuddering in lust as she worked her hips in small, jerky thrusts. She squeezed Isabella’s head between her thighs, biting her lips and rubbing her breasts, feeding the warm fire in her groin that sent tingling waves of electricity through her body. She hunched over, eyes fluttering, and pushed out in a squeaky voice, “Oh, Isabella, you’re such a f-fucking whore! Fuck!”

Isabella flinched as Rachel’s pussy clenched around her tongue, forcing a thick rush of cum out into her mouth as the blonde’s thighs shuddered around her head. Her voice rose into a high-pitched, stuttering moan, tits flushed red and heaving with rapid breaths. Powerful convulsions rocked through her, each one sending another deluge of femme cum flooding down Isabella’s face, her thighs gripping so tight that she couldn’t even breathe.

Rachel grabbed the nightstick tight through the fog of her ecstasy, giving it a malicious twist and shove. Isabella bucked beneath her, feet scrabbling across the floor, her shocked screams muffled by her partner’s clenching thighs, and Rachel rode the sweet song of her shrieks like a wave, her own moans rising and falling with it.

Finally the bulk of her orgasm passed through her. She sighed, her lips parting to loose a soft moan as she idly ground her cunt into Isabella’s face a few seconds more.

“Well, I’m a woman of my word.” Rachel stood with a sigh, stepping back and smirking down at Isabella. The sexy detective curled up into a shivering ball, her face glistening with a mix of tears, spunk, and Rachel’s cum. Sweat clung to her body, highlighting the smoothness of her skin, and she winced with every motion, the nightstick still shoved halfway up her ass.

“I’ll let you keep the stick,” Rachel said, stretching her arms and starting for the door.

***

Isabella held her breath as she pushed her ear up to the door.

She didn’t know exactly how long it’d been since Rachel’s last visit, but it must have been hours at least. In the fog of her post-orgasm high, Rachel had neglected to re-chain her or even pull the nightstick from her ass, and that meant that Isabella still had a chance to fight back.

It wouldn’t be easy. She’d cried herself into a fitful sleep after being left alone again, and when she’d finally jerked awake it had taken an eternity for her to work up the courage to grab the nightstick and agonizingly ease it out of her anus. She’d nearly screamed several times, but she’d bit her tongue and doubled down, determined to survive, to break free and kill these bastards that had tortured her.

Walking was still painful and her whole body was sore and bruised, but she was confident in her skills. She’d glanced out the window—even behind the curtain it was boarded up, but she’d been able to see the sky—and gauged it to be a bit before noon. Now she kneeled by the door, wrists still manacled, her nightstick wielded tightly in her good hand while the other dangled limply beside it, listening to John and Rachel move around the cabin.

The door was locked from the outside, and she wasn’t confident in her ability to take the both of them in a straight-up fight. She’d have to wait and strike the next time one entered the room. If she took them off guard she might be able to steal a gun and get her vengeance.

She didn’t count the seconds. She busied herself instead with imagined scenes of John and Rachel on the floor, bloodied and bruised as she smashed their faces in. Maybe she’d even go a little further. A wicked grin spread across her face as she imagined herself grinding his nuts under her heel, cutting his dick off and making him eat it. Oh, she’d make him scream. She’d get her revenge on that bastard.

Isabella was so caught up in her daydream that she almost didn’t recognize the sound of approaching footsteps until it was too late. She jumped, lifting the nightstick just as the door swung swiftly open.

In the dark, she’d failed to take into account the direction of the hinges. The door slammed into her face, knocking her back. Her ass smacked into the hard floor, a hot flare of pain rushing up her spine as the impact agitated her previous abuse.

“Detective!” John flicked the light on and smirked down at her, bemusement clear in his eyes. He was nude, soft cock still glistening and stinking of sex. “Have I interrupted something?”

Isabella blinked, struggling back to her feet with a hiss of pain. She brandished the nightstick and released a furious, animal battle cry, rushing forwards on clumsy feet.

John’s fist slammed into her face. Her roar turned into a squealing wheeze as she staggered sideways, the nightstick falling from her hands. Stars burst in her vision, conscious thought ripped away like a plastic bag in a hurricane. She toppled, landing on her broken fingers, the sudden impact forcing a strangled shriek from her dry lips.

He kicked her onto her belly and dragged her up to her knees by her hair, winding up and driving his fist into her face a second time. She smacked into the floor yet again, groaning and curling up into a shaky ball.

“Is that all you have, you dumb bitch?” John teased, bending down and giving her nipple a harsh pinch. He easily slapped away her hands. “When Rachel told me she’d left a weapon with you I’d expected more, to be honest. Or maybe you just like getting the shit kicked out of you? Is that it?” He slapped her cheeks, digging his nails into her breast until he broke the skin. “You hoping I’ll rape you again, hmm?”

Isabella hardly registered his words. She was still contending with the ringing in her ears and the nausea swishing about in her gut. She rolled onto her belly, struggling to push herself up, only to be dragged across the floor by John grabbing a fistful of her hair.

“I expect you’ll get your wish,” he said, hauling her out through the living room and into a warm, spacious bedchamber with a fire crackling in the hearth. He pulled her to her feet, her manacles clinking together between her wrists, and gave her ass one last overzealous squeeze before shoving her forwards.

She stumbled, catching herself on the hard wooden foot of the bed. It was a big four-post affair, with deep, plush sheets and expensive blankets that glimmered like gold in the sunlight streaming through a wide, room-length window. A smooth, glittering lake was visible through it, with green trees and a distant mountain peak completing the picturesque view.

The click of a door opening drew Isabella’s eye. She looked over and spotted Rachel posing in the doorway of the attached bathroom with her hands on her hips, her bare tits thrust proudly forwards and a long purple strap-on bouncing between her legs.

Rachel grinned, stepping fully into the room and leaning over to grab Isabella’s shoulders with both hands. She dragged her up onto the bed with a strained grunt, rolling her onto her back and spinning her until she was splayed out sideways across it.

“Ready for some more fun, Bella?” Rachel asked, slapping the strap-on across Isabella’s face. It was hard plastic, and it felt like being struck by an old man’s cane. “I thought I’d see what it’s like to really step into John’s shoes.”

Isabella coughed, pushing the fake cock away with one shaky hand. “R-Ra—hrnk!”

Her plea was interrupted by eight inches of cold rubber being shoved down her gullet. Isabella’s eyes bulged, a rush of acidic bile surging up her throat and spilling out her nostrils. She groaned, hands flying up to push against Rachel’s thighs, but she was weak and disoriented, quickly reduced to a spasming, gagging mess by the long shaft churning her throat.

Rachel had no finesse. Though raping her old partner was shudderingly sexy purely as a concept, the only physical pleasure she felt was when she slammed home and the impact sent titillating vibrations into her pussy. She’d hilt for long moments, grinding her clit into Isabella’s face and biting her lip with breathless pants, one hand caressing the hard shaft visibly outlined in Isabella’s throat while the other pinched and tweaked at her nipples.

There was a brief, fleeting moment of sanity. Rachel paused between thrusts, watching Isabella’s entire body shake with the force of a powerful retch, and all at once fully understood just how deep a betrayal she was committing. They were partners. They’d sworn to protect each other, to back each other up even if the whole city came down on them. And now Rachel was the one holding Isabella down, leaning down and kissing at her bouncing, bruised tits, choking her on some cheap plastic cock, helping the man that Isabella hated more than anything to violate and dominate her in the most visceral way any woman could imagine.

It was a terrible act. If there was a God then Rachel surely would burn in Hell for this. She could hear the truth of it in the wet, choking sobs that Isabella sometimes managed to squeeze out past the brutal throatfucking, clogged with bile and spit and tears.

But it was the betrayal that made this whole thing so unbelievably hot.

Rachel’s thighs shuddered. She cried out, biting Isabella’s nipple hard and grinding her pussy against her face as a powerful orgasm rocked through her. She was such a terrible partner. She was a horrible human being, and she was cumming her fucking brains out on her partner’s face, and the only regret she had was that she could only betray Isabella once.

Isabella was having a far less cerebral experience. She’d nearly passed out by now, her throat throbbing with a sharp pain as the hard plastic scratched at the muscle inside. She bit down reflexively, alternating between gagging and swallowing, her fingers and toes curling and her hips bucking and her legs kicking. The plastic ground against her teeth, adding a new note of pain to the mess in her head.

When Rachel finally came down from her orgasm and stepped back, leaning against the wall with tits heaving to catch her breath, Isabella didn’t immediately respond. She lay still on her back for a moment, spit bubbling up the back of her throat and eyes unfocused. Then she sucked in a great, haggard gasp, jerking to life with a full-body seizure that made her abused tits bounce wildly on her chest.

“Welcome back,” Rachel cooed, rubbing her false cock in her palm. The stroking didn’t do much for her, but it somehow felt right. The rubber was coated in a thick coat of spit now. “I hope you enjoyed the warmup as much as I did.”

Isabella grunted. Warmup? She tried to speak, but she could only get out a dumb moan.

“You didn’t think we were done already, did you?” Rachel teased, sauntering around to the other side of the bed. She grabbed Isabella’s ankles, dragging her closer and pushing her legs up towards her shoulders until only her cum-drenched cunt and tender red ass were sticking off the edge. “If I’m gonna be like John, I’ve gotta go all the way.”

A sound from the door drew Isabella’s attention. She turned and saw John step inside, a small toolbox dangling from one hand. She hadn’t even noticed him leave.

“Don’t mind me, you two.” John smirked, setting the toolbox on the bed next to Isabella’s head and flipping it open. Pliers, screwdrivers, and wrenches jostled together inside, all neatly organized and polished, and a sudden thrill of fresh adrenaline rushed through Isabella’s heart.

Her senses came into sharp clarity just as Rachel pushed the strap-on into her sensitive pussy, driving a pained yelp from her lips. She tensed, grabbing the bedsheets tight in her fists. The plastic cock was long and skinny, and Rachel thrust it into her with no sense of how deep or hard it stabbed. The hard tip slammed into Isabella’s cervix with every thrust, causing her strong legs to tighten and jerk against Rachel’s hands.

John hummed to himself, grabbing a plain pair of pliers from the toolbox and giving them an experimental flex. He arched a brow down at Isabella, watching her pained expression until he was certain she’d seen the tool in his hand.

“You’re a strong-willed woman, Detective,” he said conversationally. “I imagine that if I were to stick my penis between those little pillow lips of yours, you’d happily bite it off and choke on it.” He paused, arching a brow. “What do you think?”

Isabella’s gaze flitted between the pliers and his eyes. The implication was not only obvious, but terrifying. She shook her head frantically, straining to push words out past the burning in her throat and the rhythmic, stabbing pain of Rachel’s strap-on battering her cervix.

“N-no,” she croaked. “I w-won’t. I’ll d-do what y-you want. P-please.”

John’s grin widened. That same, smug grin that Isabella had hated so much during his confession now filled her with a cold, clammy fear. His eyes weren’t cold and emotionless like she’d always imagined a psycho killer’s would be. They were warm. Excited.

“I don’t know if I can trust you, to be honest. You’ve spent so much breath already promising how you would hurt me, I’d be a fool to not take precautions.” He reached down slowly, grabbing Isabella’s jaw as she tried to look away and wrenching it back towards him. “Now open your mouth and be still. If you fight too much I may crack a tooth, and that’ll hurt far worse.”

Rachel watched the little interaction with wide eyes, biting her lip and grunting as she put more force into every thrust. As a woman, she knew exactly what the little barrier keeping her from burying the entire strap-on up Isabella’s snatch was, and she knew exactly how much it must hurt. She could feel it in the way Isabella’s body tensed with every thrust, and it made the sympathetic vibrations of impact tingling over her clit that much better. The plastic dildo slid in and out of Isabella’s cunt with loud, sloppy shlicks, and she swore it went just a little bit deeper every time. She went as deep as she could and held herself there, making little circles with her hips, grinding the tapered tip of the cheap cock against the entrance to Isabella’s womb.

Isabella began to beg as John grabbed her chin and pulled, straining to force her lips apart. “Open up, cunt!” he barked. She shook her head vehemently, moaning protests through tight lips. He snarled with sudden fury, slamming his fist into her jaw, then again, unleashing a rapid barrage of brutal strikes across her pretty face. She tried lifting her hands to protect herself and he slapped them away, pummeling her until her face began to swell with ugly purple bruises and blood streamed down her face in rivulets.

John forced her mouth open, ignoring her weak moans and grabbing one of her pretty white teeth with the pliers. He had some experience with this, so he took a moment to get a good grip and angle—not out of any concern for her, but because he knew a broken tooth would still have to be removed and was twice as much hassle—and pulled.

Isabella shrieked. Her legs kicked wildly in Rachel’s arms, and her hands slapped against John’s bulging biceps as animal panic flooded her mind. She bucked her hips and arched her back, her perky breasts bouncing wildly and a rush of urine spurting out past the strap-on as she pissed herself.

Rachel kept tight hold of Isabella’s legs, fucking the struggling slut through it all. There was a brief respite as the first tooth came free and John shoved it to the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow, only for the fight to redouble as he went back in for the next one. At some point Isabella’s cervix finally gave in, allowing the hard plastic strap-on to slide into her womb and Rachel’s pale thighs to slap wetly against her ass. The pain in her cunt was excruciating, but she barely noticed it beneath the blinding agony of having her teeth pulled out one by one.

Rachel threw her head back and screamed in pleasure as she came, grinding her clit against Isabella’s and churning her old partner’s womb the strap on. Femme cum streamed down the inside of her thighs, pooling between her feet as she stood on her tiptoes and leaned forwards, her eyes squeezed shut and cute little pants of lust escaping her lips. When the waves of ecstasy washed over her and she opened her eyes, three more bloody teeth had been dropped onto Isabella’s slender belly.

Time flowed together for all involved. John worked quickly and efficiently, singularly focused on his work, but for each of the women the mere seconds he took to pull each tooth from Isabella’s mouth felt like hours. Isabella’s eyes rolled back, white-hot pain filling every nerve. If she’d had enough conscious thought to pray, she would’ve prayed for God to kill her, but at the moment the only thing running through her mind was the deep, overwhelming instinct to escape the pain.

By contrast, Rachel was letting herself drift from one orgasm to the next, heart pounding in her chest and long howls of ecstasy escaping her lips. She kneaded her tits and slid a hand up to choke herself, shuddering and panting every time she came down from her high.

At some point Isabella became too weak to fight. Her screams faded to pathetic moans and her violent struggles to weak twitches, and though from the outside she seemed almost peaceful, she was going through just as much pain as before. Rachel leaned down over her, rubbing her face against Isabella’s sweaty abs and kissing at her bloodied nipples, still lost in the addictive wave of constant orgasm and grinding her entire body against Isabella’s.

Finally John stepped back with a satisfied sigh. Isabella groaned up at him, eyes unfocused, her beautiful smile reduced to an ugly red hole. He’d done a perfect job this time, not a single broken tooth, and he was proud of himself. His dick was already stiff, anticipating what came next.

“Good. Very good.” John let the pliers clatter to the floor. He stuck two fingers into Isabella’s mouth, shoving them back until his knuckles bumped up against her busted lower lip. She gagged weakly, throat squeezing around his fingers. “Now then. Rachel!”

Rachel answered with a husky groan, stepping back and discarding her strap-on. Her pussy was flushed red and swollen with excitement, visibly twitching in time with her racing heart and drooling cum. She gave John a breathy nod as she grabbed Isabella’s calves and dragged her off the bed, letting her back slap wetly against the wood floor.

Isabella put up no fight as she was hauled into the open spot between the bed and the floor. She only blinked blearily as Rachel grabbed her hair and pulled her up onto her knees. She sucked in haggard breaths, staring blankly at the wall as spit drooled down onto her abused tits, painting runny pink paths through her blood.

John stepped in front of her. He leaned down to her level, looking into each of her unfocused eyes in turn. “Detective? Come back to us, Detective.”

Isabella coughed. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, gaze focusing on John’s cocky grin. She knew she hated that grin, but the aching, overwhelming exhaustion filling her bones was like a fog, suppressing every emotion.

“There you are.” He smiled at her. “Do you still want to live, Detective?”

Did she? She’d suffered more in the past couple days than she’d thought was possible. The experience, surely, would haunt for the rest of her life, and that didn’t even account for the physical after effects. She could feel the broken things inside her, nerves complaining with every breath. It would be so easy to just lie down and die.

But Isabella Rodriguez was not a woman who laid down and died. She was a woman who got revenge. She had to do it, not only for herself, but for all the other women this monster had raped—and would rape, if she didn’t stop him.

She nodded, slowly.

“I’ll let you live,” John said, straightening up. His dick bobbed gently in front of her, proud and strong. “If you suck me off.”

He didn’t mean it. Isabella knew he didn’t mean it. This was the exact same offer he’d given to the lesbian couple: suck a little dick, shame yourself on your rapist’s cock, and he’d let you go. Rachel bit her lip excitedly, anticipating the response. Everyone in the room knew it was a lie.

“Think about it, Detective. What else are you going to do? Are you going to try and ambush me again, with your broken hand and your repulsive toothless maw and eyes half-swollen shut? You can barely handle kneeling and breathing as it is. I may be lying to you, yes, but I’ll tell you this for sure: if you don’t swallow my cock within the next 60 seconds, I’ll shove a stake up your cunt and leave you for Rachel’s parents to discover when they next go on vacation. It’d break their hearts, I imagine.”

John paused, taking a thoughtful breath. “But don’t worry about them. Worry about yourself. If you say no, you’ll die a proud woman who fought to the last, but you will die, and it will be very painful. But if you say yes?” He snorted, grabbing his cock and giving it a little stroke. “You still have a chance. You can make it out of here. You don’t have to die just to make a statement nobody will remember. And all you have to do—” He pushed his hips out, pressing the rounded head of his dick against her lips. “—is be a good girl and suck your Master’s cock.”

Several seconds passed. Rachel held her breath.

Isabella opened her lips and took John’s dick into her mouth.

She didn’t have any tears left to shed. She sniffled, wrapping her lips tight around his shaft and swirling her tongue along the underside as she began to bob her head in slow little pumps. Inside, she screamed at herself. What was she doing? How could she give in to him like this? She knew he was still going to kill her! She was humiliating herself, giving him everything he wanted, for nothing!

But she wanted to live. Under all the tough talk and threats, she was a slut afraid to die. She wanted to say no, to die with some semblance of pride, but she very literally couldn’t bring herself to. Her body moved on its own as her mind drew back into a small, quiet corner.

John laughed, clapping his hands in satisfaction before placing one gently on her head. “There we go! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If Isabella heard him, she didn’t show it. She began to suck with more energy, almost urgently, as if she subconsciously hoped that doing a better job would increase her odds of survival. She sobbed quietly, her expression blank and distant as she leaned forwards and buried her face into his groin, her throat massaging his cock with a slow rhythm. She enveloped his entire length in the warm embrace of her mouth as his masculine scent filled her senses.

“Lick my balls, cunt,” John instructed. “And look at me! Let me see your eyes!”

She responded immediately, gagging slightly as she struggled to open her mouth wide enough to accept one of his smooth nuts into her mouth. She looked up at him, gazing blankly at his face. She didn’t focus on either eye, or anything at all. In many ways, she’d already left.

John pursed his lips and worked his jaw side to side, nostrils flaring as his grip on her head tightened and his eyes took on a dangerous light. He’d broken her, utterly, completely, and the thought made his cock flex powerfully inside her throat. This was exactly where she belonged, the stupid bitch, between his legs, choking on cock and suckling his balls. He groaned loudly, his cool facade giving way to a lustful eagerness.

He could’ve waited for her to suck him off herself, and it probably wouldn’t have taken that long with how aroused he was just then, but now that she’d surrendered herself he wanted to indulge more than ever before. He grabbed her head in both strong hands, pulling his hips back and slamming them back home, his hard pubic bone smacking painfully against her nose.

Muffled gags and glucks filled the room, her throat bulging with every thrust as her arms swayed limply at her sides. He glared down at her, breathing hard, picking up speed with every forceful thrust, causing her bruised tits to bounce and sway as spit and blood dripped across them. Salty daubs of pre leaked from his tip, pausing on the back of her tongue before dripping down her throat. He’d beaten her. He’d walked straight into a police station with a confession on his lips, and within days he’d tamed this upstart whore who thought she was something because she could squeeze her perky tits into a uniform and shoot a gun, and even collected her blonde bimbo of a partner to keep as a pet.

Rachel watched it all with wide eyes, kneading at Isabella’s tits from behind and kissing her slender neck. She looked up at John adoringly, leaning past Isabella’s shoulder to apply a few tender licks and kisses of her own at his cock.

John let out a prideful roar as his balls tightened, his cock swelling with the most powerful orgasm of his life. He kept his gaze focused on Isabella’s face as he pumped the first rope of thick cum down her gullet, hilting deep down her throat and letting his balls churn against her chin. He gasped for breath, surprising even himself with his virility, white flashes of warm ecstasy racing up his spine and causing his muscles to bulge as his body tensed. But still he didn’t look away, drinking in the broken, empty expression of the ex-detective beneath him.

“Fuck!” He hissed, heart pounding against his chest. He watched Isabella’s eyes roll back into her head as her cheeks began to blue, felt her throat begin to squeeze tight around him, desperate to push him out. The convulsions traveled agonizingly slow up his shaft, starting at his tip and then rolling all the way his cock in a way that made his toes curl. Isabella’s fingers spasmed, a loud retch causing her tits to bounce.

Finally conscious thought returned to John. If he pulled out now, she would likely survive, albeit maybe with some brain damage. And he did entertain the notion for a moment. Perhaps it would be an even greater torture to let her live, let her stew in the knowledge that she’d given in at the end.

A new pressure made itself known in John’s groin. With a start, he realized he hadn’t pissed since that morning.

He relaxed his bladder, letting out a deep, low groan as he deposited a long stream of piss down Isabella’s throat. Her gagging convulsions grew weaker as he relieved himself, gently caressing her cheek with one hand. Some of his urine bubbled back up, escaping out her nostrils with a few drops of cum and meandering down her cheeks.

In her final moments, Isabella felt the cold creeping in from her fingertips, up her arms and legs, sinking into her bones. She knew she was dying, and she accepted it with a distant peace. Even the desperately proud woman screaming for revenge inside her had given up.

Her last sensation was of John’s warm urine settling into her gut. It was strangely comforting.

John let Isabella slide off his cock and thump limply to the floor. Her head lolled side to side, a frothy mix of blood, cum, spit, and piss bubbling out of her lips and dripping down either side of her blue face. She twitched faintly, tits bouncing a final time, and died.

John sighed in satisfaction. He took a deep breath, smiling at Rachel, who earnestly climbed over Isabella’s limp carcass, slid up his body, and pressed her lips against his.

She shoved her tongue into his mouth, rubbing her perky nipples against his chest and caressing his back with her hands. “I fucking love you,” she panted, pulling back after several seconds.

“Good.” John nodded, pushing her back. “Now get dressed. We’ve got one last job to do.”

***

They found her posed on the steps of the courthouse, the ruddy paleness of her once tanned skin somewhat diminished by the dawn light.

Her baton had been forced down her throat, the rigid stick clearly outlined in her slender neck and acting as a sort of surrogate spine, keeping her back straight and her tits out. Her bosom was bruised and bleeding, visible bite marks prominent around her nipples and a deep cut running the breadth of one curving breast. Her police badge, it’s cleanness almost surreal against the grotesque backdrop of her bloodied corpse, was pinned over her left breast, the needle pushed straight through her nipple. Her legs were spread wide and her gun had been shoved up her ass to the grip. Cum dripped from her used cunt in thick globs, pooling beneath her, with even more sliding down the curve of her cheek or staining her belly and tits.

She’d been propped up in a sitting position against one of the big marble columns. Her eyes were still open, neither peaceful nor horrified in expression. The autopsy later confirmed what was obvious at a glance: she’d been raped, tortured, and killed. She had no children to mourn her, her parents had already passed, and her one sibling, a brother who worked as an aviation mechanic, frankly didn’t care.

John and Rachel certainly didn't care. They drove from town to town, enjoying the sights, fucking in every hotel, John whispering his plans for whatever poor woman they abducted next into Rachel’s ear while she bounced breathlessly on his cock and came her brains out.

She was just another cunt to him. He’d kill her one day, but for now he found her endearing. Like a dog. And useful, like a hunting dog.

But that was for later. Now he was content to relax.

There were plenty of fish in the sea, and he wasn’t in any rush to catch them.