Getting Away with Murder Chapter 6 - Thin Blue Line

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The door creaked open with a plaintive squeal. Zahira bit her lip, poking her head into the dark room that Isabella was doomed to spend the rest of her life in, peeking in and smiling as she saw her. The abducted cop was fetched up against one of the walls, bonelessly limp, head down, the sweat of her first rapes still gleaming on her dark skin. It was the middle of summertime, and though the rest of the cabin — an old family property left to Zahira by her doting, dead grandparents — was well-ventilated with open windows and fans, the storage room Isabella was locked in had only a single door, firmly shut, locked, and sealed. It became a stuffy, choking hotbox in the day, one which Zahira had always loathed entering whenever she’d needed to help her grandpa find some old lost doodad. Now, however, her heart fluttered with her excitement every time she thought of it.

Grant was sound asleep in the bedroom, his belly full and his balls drained by Zahira’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.

Zahira shut the door behind her with a gentle bump of her rear, one hand drifting up to tease her nipple as she flicked the light switch and stepped further inside. Grant’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. Her partner — former partner, she supposed — never had been one to wear 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. Blood had dried on beneath her nose and on her lower lips, and her tits looked black and purpose and swollen. The beginnings of black eyes were starting to show, and her wrists were still handcuffed behind her but one of her hands was held protectively off to the side, its fingers broken and crumpled.

She had done that to her.

“Psst.” Zahira pressed her lips against Isabella’s forehead, licking the salty sweat from her skin. Her fingers pulled at the gag buckle, undoing it, pulling the ring from her slack mouth and letting it drop to the floor with a tinny ring. “Time to wake up, beautiful.”

“Nnngh.” Isabella groaned, pulling weakly away. “Z-Zahira?”

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

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

Zahira’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?” Zahira winked, revealing the gun she’d been hiding behind her back: a polished Beretta 92FS. Isabella’s gun. She stuck the barrel into Isabella’s face and gave it a little wave. “Open up, Izzy.”

Isabella didn’t react at first. She stared blankly at the gun, then up into Zahira’s pretty brown eyes. She thought of the disgusting sensation of Grant’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. Isabella shook her head firmly, glaring a challenge at her old partner.

Zahira 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.” Zahira straightened up, tapping the gun thoughtfully against her chin. “Oh! There’s an idea…”

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,” Zahira said, straightening up. She held Isabella’s nightstick in her free hand.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Isabella growled. “You’re just an object to him, you know. He’s using you!”

Zahira answered by closing the distance with two long steps and swinging the nightstick hard into Isabella’s already agonized breasts, and she screamed. “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. Zahira 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 cuffs in place.

Before she could even think of getting up to fight, though, Zahira was on top of her. The Indian woman grabbed her handcuffs 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 Zahira’s knee. “You’d better hold me tight, Zahira, cause I swear to God if you let me go I’ll put a fucking bullet through your skull!”

“Yeah, I’m you would. Now shut up!” Zahira smacked the nightstick across the back of Isabella’s toned thighs, causing her to tense and hiss with pain. “You’re gonna wake up Grant!”

“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 Zahira to clamp a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll make you scream, all right,” she purred. “But not yet…”

Isabella snarled into Zahira’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, but too late. Zahira 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!” Zahira 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 Zahira had leverage, and no matter how strong Isabella fought, she was going to lose eventually.

Isabella screamed into her partner’s hand 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 Zahira’s hand as she was violated one agonizing inch at a time. Zahira 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?” Zahira 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 Zahira’s hand as best she could with her teeth—

—and immediately fell to pieces again as Zahira 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?” Zahira 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, and her partner smiled at her. “That’s a good girl. Kiss my hand,” Zahira said, leaning in. “Suck my fingers.”

As much as it shamed her, Isabella couldn’t take anymore pain. She did as she was told, pressing her soft lips gingerly against Zahira’s palm and then accepting her slender fingers into her mouth. She caressed them with her tongue, suckling them gently until she was interrupted by Zahira’s middle finger shoving itself down her throat and forcing a shuddering retch from her.

“Good girl.” Zahira 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. Zahira 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 Zahira ease the gun in and out.

“Moan,” Zahira commanded, her free hand roaming down to finger herself. “You didn’t do a very good job sucking Grant off… I’m going to need to teach your dyke-ass to do it properly. Use your tongue, slut… 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. Zahira slowly pumped the barrel of her pistol in and out, making her wince each time it scraped against her teeth or dug into part of her pallet for long minutes while she tongue-fucked it. She hated this. She hated being this. She felt like a whore.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the gun was pulled out and replaced with something warm, wet, and stinking of sex. She flinched as Zahira sat on her face, pressing her soaked 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 put a bullet in your guts. You’ll survive long enough that I’m sure Grant can have the rest of his fun with you while you 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. There were nights that she’d fantasized about this… although not like this. The context made even a desirable thing horrific but she tried not to think about that. Isabella stuck her tongue out, cringing as a thick, musky cream dripped into her mouth..

“Something wrong?” Zahira purred. She bit her lip, grabbing one of Isabella’s perky, bruised tits and kneading the flesh around her nipple. “Can you taste Grant’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. “Make sure to eat it all.”

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, the choking sensation when he had slammed it down her throat. In neither case, however, had she needed to do anything actively to encourage it. Now, it was different. Now she would have to take in more of him, willingly, in her mouth. Isabella wanted to sob… would no part of her be left unsoiled by his repulsive seed?

Zahira 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 Zahira’s snatch, scooping Grant’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.” Zahira 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 get some sleep once you get me off.”

Isabella sobbed into Zahira’s cunt. Her heart ached and her belly churned, but the insistent throbbing pain in her ass spurred her on. She tilted her head back, pursing her lips around Zahira’s clit and swirling her tongue around the little nub, suckling and licking as Zahira rode her face and drooled cum over her chin.

Zahira 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 Zahira’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.

Zahira 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 Zahira 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.” Zahira 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 Zahira’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,” Zahira said, stretching her arms and starting for the door. “See you in the morning… partner.”

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

She didn’t know exactly how long it’d been since Zahira’s last visit, but it must have been hours at least. In the fog of her post-orgasm high, Zahira had, Isabella hoped, made a critical mistake. She had neglected to re-chain her cuffs to the wall, or even to pull the nightstick from her ass. Her uniform was still in the room where they had stripped her while unconscious. 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 move… every twitch of her body made the nightstick feel like a sword in her guts… but after more than an hour of pain Isabella had managed to worm-crawl her way over to it and get into her pockets. Thankfully, just like they had raped her with her own gun, they had used her handcuffs to restrain her, and that meant her keys opened them. One of her hands useless, but one of them was good enough… and that meant that Isabella still had a chance to fight back.

It wouldn’t be easy. She had nearly passed out as she tried to grab the nightstick and agonizingly ease it out of her asshole. 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… and eventually it had come out. The door was locked from the outside, and she couldn’t break it down… certainly not without getting their attention. As much as she wished otherwise, Isabella couldn’t be 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 take one out and turn on the other, or better yet steal back her gun and get her vengeance.

If she failed, she expected they would rape her again. But then she expected they’d do that again anyways, so she considered it a worthwhile risk.

Walking was still painful and her whole body was sore and bruised, but she was confident in her skills. Isabella couldn’t see a window, but the light under the door was growing brighter. The sun was definitely up by now… they would be coming for her soon, she wagered. Now she knelt by the door, wrists still together like they were manacled, her nightstick wielded tightly in her good hand while the other dangled limply beside it. She listened intently as Grant and Zahira move around the cabin. She’d heard some conversation, the sound of cooking, and the nauseating cacophony of Grant fucking Zahira’s psycho brains out.

She didn’t count the seconds. She busied herself instead with imagined scenes of Grant and Zahira 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. She brandished the nightstick and released a furious, animal battle cry, rushing forwards on clumsy feet… And Grant’s fist slammed into her face. Her roar turned into a squealing wheeze as she staggered sideways, her world exploding into stars. She collapsed, her ass smacked into the hard floor, a hot flare of pain rushing up her spine as the impact agitated her previous abuse.

“Detective!” Grant 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 rushed at him again, nightstick swinging… but he didn’t even try to get out of the way. He one grabbed at her wrist as is came down, stopping her… while the other found her broken hand and squeezed. Broken bone ground against itself and she screamed, the nightstick falling from her hands. His knee came up, slamming into her gut, as he followed it up with another punch to the face. 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. “Really? Is that all you have, you dumb bitch?” Grant teased, bending down and giving her nipple a harsh pinch. He easily slapped away her hand away as she reflexively tried to stop him. “When Zahira told me she’d left a weapon with you, I’d honestly expected more. The way this went, I think you might actually just be asking for it. Do you 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. “Did I rape you straight already? You hoping you’ll get my dick 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 Grant 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, closing another set of cuffs onto 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. It looked wonderfully peaceful… completely at odds with her nightmare. Unfortunately, it also looked isolated. No one was going to hear her screams here.

The click of a door opening drew Isabella’s eye. She looked over and spotted Zahira 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. “What do you think?” she said, striking a pose. “Never had a chance to use one of these before.”

Grant grinned at her. “Suits you,” he said warmly.

Zahira smiled broadly, 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 the bed.

“Ready for some more fun, Bella?” Zahira asked, slapping the strap-on across Isabella’s face. It was hard plastic, the kind of cheap toy that a teenager might buy before eventually upgrading to something that actually felt good to have inside you, and it felt like being struck by a cane. “I thought I’d see what it’s like to really step into Grant’s shoes.”

Isabella coughed, pushing the fake cock away with one shaky hand. “Z-Za—hrnk!” Her plea was interrupted by eight inches of cold, hard plastic 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 Zahira’s thighs, but she was weak and disoriented, quickly reduced to a spasming, gagging mess by the long shaft churning her throat.

Zahira showed no finesse whatsoever. Though raping her old partner was shudderingly sexy just as a concept, unlike Grant’s cock being buried down Isabella’s clenching neck didn’t give her any physical pleasure whatsoever. Her spikes of ecstasy only came when she felt was when she slammed home, and the impact sent tiltillating vibrations though 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 as it went up and down her slender neck, while the other pinched and tweaked at her nipples.

There was a brief, fleeting moment of sanity. Zahira paused between thrusts, watching Isabella’s entire body shake with the force of a particularly 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. Isabella had, in fact, expected that she was going to be her partner is murdering someone, trusted her absolutely. And now Zahira was the one holding Isabella down, leaning down and kissing at her abdomen, slapping her bouncing, bruised tits while she choked her on some cheap plastic cock. All of it in the service of 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 Zahira surely would burn in Hell for this. She could hear the truth of that 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 that betrayal which made this whole thing so unbelievably hot.

Zahira’s thighs shuddered. She cried out, finger crushing and twisting both of Isabella’s nipples 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, for her partly, 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 was biting 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 sharp sound to the lewd chorus and a new note of pain to the mess in her head. When Zahira 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,” Zahira 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?” Zahira 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. “We’re just getting started…”

Zahira spread her legs, baring her tight dyke cunt and winking asshole to Grant where he stood, watching and sneering at the sight of the mighty, haughty cop being manhandled by her parter. “I’m just here to help… this is his show, after all…”

"Don’t worry, dyke... we’re going to put these holes of yours to good use, I promise,” Grant snickered as Isabella sobbed out broken little noises from the terrible pain she was in. There was a ragged texture to her breathing now and every suck of oxygen ached… she wondered if she was bleeding inside her neck from that dildo. She whimpered again as she felt the rapists thick dick pressing up against her tight little snatch, his thick shaft pushing up against her sore slit. "God this is such a nice, tight hole,” he moaned as he slowly pressed himself into her. “Once was nowhere near enough… you still feel like you've never been penetrated before, don’t you, you cute, cock-hating rugmuncher? How's it feel knowing your cunt is finally servings its purpose?”

Isabella wanted to scream at him to threaten him, but she lost her will when she let out a whiny little sound as Grant pushed his murderous cock into her. “Please… please don’t…”

Zahira slapped her. "Bella, Bella… You’re not calling the shots anymore, you dumb fuckhole. Don't you get it? You’re no cop… you’re just a rapetoy now.” She gave her partner another hard slap to her thigh that left a darkening bruise and forced another pathetic whine out of her mouth.

Grant, however, chuckled, and Isabella sighed in relief as she felt him pull away from her pussy, his cock slipping out of her. “No need for that, babe… if she doesn’t want her pussy filled, that’s alright with me. I can accomodate her.

Isabella’s relief vanished. "What do you mean you a— AGH!” Isabella was cut off as the man slammed his rock hard cock straight into her ass. It felt titanic as it skewered her, slamming deep. It must have been lubed to be able to do that but she couldn’t tell by the way it felt… hell, if she were blindfolded and Zahira told her his cock was wrapped in sandpaper then she would have believed her. Getting skewered by the baton had been bad enough but this was far worse as he rammed him way forward, smashing her down into the bed as he sodomized the cop that had just yesterday been planning to kill him. No preparation could have helped make this feel any better… even that first thrust felt like he was going to tear her asshole apart and split her in two like a log. "OH GOD...” she screamed. “OH... MY... G... G... G... G..."

Zahira laughed. "Listen to the dumb cunt stutter!" she mocked as she held onto her partner by the shoulders. “What’s the matter? Forgot English, bitch? What are you trying to say, joder con mi culo de puta, slut?”

Grant sneered as he drew back, preparing to thrust again. "She doesn’t sound so tough with a cock rammed right up her shitter, does she?" Then he tightened his hands on her spread legs, squeezed hard, and rammed himself forward. Isabella drooled and screamed, her eyes rolling back into her skull as she took Grant’s thick cock to the hilt. Her rapist slammed into her like she was nothing but a cheap sexdoll he was going to hate-fuck into oblivion. Then, a second later, he pulled back and did it again, then again. She panted and whimpered like a bitch being mounted, her body thrashing and struggling as she tried to get away for dear life, desperate to escape the brutal ass raping she was being subjected to. She couldn’t move, though… Zahira and Grant worked together to hold the bound cop motionless and helpless as he withdrew his thick pole of man meat out of her ass just a few inches before ramming it back in, smashing her down to the bed in time with his thrusts.

Zahira was slapping her bruised tits around, and he joined her in the effort… beating the pig stupid even as he assraped the dumb dyke like a cheap hooker. "Your ass is fucking GRIPPING my cock bitch... guess you wanna milk all my cum out of it huh? Told you I’d fuck you straight, Isabella. Don't worry... I'm going to give you so many loads you'll be a fucking spunk toilet" he growled as he thrust balls deep up the whining and shuddering bitches ass, stretching her wider and wider as he forced the stuck up bitch to take a cock fucking deep up her guts as she writhed and twitched in agony

"TAKE IT OUT!” she shrieked helplessly. “Please! PLEASE!” she felt like she had no dignity left, no pride. “F—fuck my pussy! FUCK MY PUSSY INSTEAD. Please, just take it OUUUUTTTTTTTTT!"

"Told you you’d appreciate me eventually,” Grant laughed as he felt her asshole clench on him each time Isabella sobbed in horror and pain. “But we’re not done yet. Don’t gunna be done until I’ve taught you… thoroughly… how to be a good little cocksleeve." He grunted and slammed himself in and out as Isabella's sweaty, bruised body thrashed brokenly beneath him as she got her tight little ass ruined by the first and only cock she would ever take in her life. She screeched as he penetrated deeper and deeper into her, his bitch breaker of a cock ramming deep into her guts.

Isabella had thought the rape she'd already endured had been bad. She had thought being forced to choke on her rapist’s cock was the worst nightmare she could imagine. She was now being proved utterly, horribly, pathetically wrong… taking her rapist’s cock up her ass was a thousand times worse. Her eyes had rolled back into her head and her mouth was gaping open as she got her ass stuffed. "I can't... I CAN'T... TAKE... IT!" Isabella choked out, begging for mercy. Unfortunately, the murdering bastard that was currently slamming her right up that hot ass evidently didn't give a shit if the disgraced cop could take it or not - he simply continued to pound his cock deep up her ass and use her as the worthless cockwarmer that he’d decided that she was born to be.

"God, look at the bitch’s tits jiggle!” Zahira said excitedly as she slapped them one after the other, watching as Isabella’s body jerked and bucked beneath her rapist.

“Please, Zahira! Stop, please!”

"She’s not on your side you dumb bitch…” Grant moaned. “You’re gonna take it while I use your asshole for the only thing a dyke bitch is good for, and then I’m going to cram my cum right into your guts!" He impaled her ass on his cock, her once virgin asshole in agony as he smashed into her like a freight train, thrusting into her body over and over again.

"Mmm,” Zahira purred, stroking her strap on and clearly imagining what it would be like to feel Isabella’s tight asshole all around her. “Yes, Grant… do it… Make the bitch a cocksleeve!"

Isabella scrunched her face up in agony and disgust both from the brutal agony of her being stuffed full of cock, her tight ass being ruined by the killer’s hard dick. Knowing that her former parter, someone she had liked and even fantasized about, was getting off on watching her be raped was making it even worse. She had thought she was a good cop… that she was doing the right thing. If she was, though, then how could it end like this… with her as nothing but a rapetoy for this monster to enjoy? Isabella howled as the cock pounded into her harder and harder, making her scream like he was killing her with just his cock. Her body shook and her mind reeled as she blubbered like a baby, weeping as she was assraped.

Zahira just laughed at her as her new boyfriend into the Latina with body shaking thrusts. “Aww, don’t cry yet, Bella.. I’ll give you something to cry about.” She picked up the lighter, clicking it until the flame was on… then grabbed onto one of nipples and used it to pull her breast out as far from her body as she could.

“Don’t!” Isabella shrieked, trying to struggle, but Zahira just moved so her knees were on her former partner’s shoulders, the vomit-slick plastic cock resting against her cheek as leaned forward. Then she held lighter against her breast and the detective had something new to scream about.

"Oh I think this bitch likes it!” Zahira purred as Isabella thrashed beneath her. These nice titties good and sensitive, cunt-licking slut?” She moved the lighter to a new place, burning more of her already bruised breasts. “You already look roasted golden brown, bitch… maybe we can work towards well done?”

She moved to her other breast when Grant reached up to grab a handful of the already-burned tit flesh, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing hard. He groped and squeezed her agonized body while he fucked this whining little cunt up her shitter. Zahira kept burning her other tits, forcing more screams out of the raped detective as they worked to torment and crush her tits like they were udder to be milked, making her moan and cry as he raped her senseless. "Guess this bitch likes having her titties grabbed,” he chuckled as her screamed turned into miserable moans as Zahira dug her nails into the other breasts. “That what you like, dyke? Your tits being played with?”

"I duhhhh...duhhnnnnnn'tttttttt..." Isabella slurred out as she yelped in pain as the feeling of having her large breasts squeezed and crushed and burned all while she was hammered up the ass. The formerly capable, intimidating detective now looked utterly pathetic, her body slick with drool and cum and sweat as she bounced and shook with every hard and violent thrust of her rapists cock up her tight little ass. Tears trickling down her face, slowly washing a strap on clean as her body was used and abused violently. Grant’s other hand dipped down towards her cunt, his fingers jamming into the detective’s already raped slit and finger fucking her while her ass was reshaped to match his dick. Isabella now had both her holes being invaded by a man, something that until now she would never have allowed to happen, and she was too busy screaming and moaning to even protest the new violation.

It didn’t go on for long, however, before he ripped her fingers out, cramming them into her mouth and making her choke as he forced his fingers deep into her, his hand pushing her mouth so wide that she couldn’t bite down as his fingers quested for the back of her throat. “How the taste of your own cunt, slut?” he mocked her. “You like the taste of pussy? How’s yours?” Grant laughed as he finger fucked her face, forcing a thick mess of drool of spill out all over her cheeks and chin to pool in the hollow of her throat. One of it was flung far enough by her struggling to splattered against her burned rack, gagging and drooling and looking ridiculous as he continued savagely pounding her guts. “How does it taste bitch?” he moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper, stopping her from breathing. “How… does… this… taste…”

And his cock swelled and exploded inside of her, a preposterous amount of hot, thick ball butter spraying right into the helpless detective’s tight anal entrance as she gagged and choked. Isabella was lost in misery as she felt him shoot his burning sperm deep into her guts, keeping her impaled on his cock hard cock. Her body’s instinctive attempts to push him out of her only served to milk his dick, drawing load after load from his cock and spraying her insides with his seed while she moaned in disgusting and agony. She felt like garbage, like a weak, pathetic little fucktoy, a trash whore filled with jizz. She had no part of her the man hadn’t touched now, no part he hadn’t made his, and she felt miserable and worthless. Her pitiful crying, however, did nothing to convince her rapist to stop pumping the dyke bitch full of baby batter.

“I’m going to fuck the soul out of you,” Grant promised her as he came deep in her ass, his fingers in her mouth turning her pleading for mercy into weak sounding little gurgles as she moaned in agony at the feeling of that thick hot cum being pumped deep up her tight little dyke asshole. “Fill you so full of cum there’s not room for pride, or dignity, or personality, or thoughts about being a person… until there is nothing left but a good little cocksheath who wants to avoid being hurt.” His cock continuing to pound her up the ass to smash into the detective’s guts even as he came in her, his cock pumping into her to fuck the his cum even deeper into the whimpering bitch.

Isabella looked up at the man who planned to use her until she died, and could barely see him through the tears in her eyes… already feeling like nothing but a worthless hole made for storing mens cum, nothing but a jizz dumpster with a snotty attitude and big ideas.

And she’d been a free woman less than 24 hours ago.

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