Getting Away With Murder – Chapter 2

Isabella and Zahira sat on cheap plastic chairs on the roof of the police station, looking out over the cityscape beneath them. Patrol cars came and went at a leisurely pace, contrasting with the frantic wailing of distant sirens. Isabella’s fingers squeezed absentmindedly around the smooth aluminum beer can. She shouldn’t be drinking in the middle of an interrogation, let alone while on the clock, but she needed something to calm her nerves. Every cop did, now and then… and right now she had better reasons than normal.

“He’s a fucking monster,” she muttered, shaking her head and sipping from the can. She looked over to Zahira, who was focused on something in the middle distance. “How can God let people like that exist, Zahira?”

Zahira blinked as if waking from a deep sleep. “Huh?”

“Are you okay?” Isabella leaned forward and waved a hand in front of her face. “You seem kinda out of it.”

“I am. Sorry.” Zahira sighed. “It’s just — God, Isabella. The way he talks… like it’s nothing.”

“Freaks you out, yeah. Me too. I get it. Hey.” Isabella stood and knelt next to Zahira, cupping her cheek in a palm and turning the pretty middle eastern girl’s chestnut eyes towards her own. “We’ll get through this, right? Together. He’s just trying to get in our heads, screw with us. He’s getting off to it. Let’s not give him the satisfaction, okay?”

Zahira smiled. Isabella had always thought she was cute, with her full lips and puffy cheeks. The two women had nurtured a healthy friendship since being partnered together, and perhaps it might have gone even further if they had met somewhere besides the workplace. But romance within the department never ended well, and so they’d kept things strictly professional, albeit warm. But… Zahira had never dated any men while they had been partners. She could hope, right?

“You’re right.” Zahira laid her hand over Isabella’s and gave it a slight squeeze before she stood, downing the last of her beer. “We’ll get through it together.” Still, her stomach twisted as she rose and began to walk back towards the door back down into the station.

Five minutes later, the detectives entered the dreary interrogation room once more. Grant was sitting exactly where they’d left him, still cuffed, staring straight at the door as if he hadn’t moved an inch. “Ah, welcome back, ladies.” He smiled warmly. “Eager for more already?”

Isabella shook her head disdainfully, pulling the chair opposite Grant out sharply from under the table and dropping into it. “Just get on with it, pervert.”

“Hmm.” He stretched his neck to either side and straightened up. “Well… since you insist…”

It was a while before the next time. Months had passed while I waited to graduate… months I kept feeling certain that any day there would be a knock at a door, someone coming to get me. Months since I’d first experienced the joys of my new hobby. I tried to go back to the old way… just fucking dumb, drunk college girls too stupid to know any better, but they didn’t satisfy anymore. Every night I found myself lieing awake at night, thinking back, reliving the moment that the fat-titted lesbian bitch had died. Nothing else could compare to dyke pussy, let me tell you. With these other women they could… enjoy it. They wanted dick in general, even if not mine in specific… and lesbians, like that pink-haired slut, didn’t. I had seen the look of horror and disgust on her face, and thinking back on it was the easiest way for me to get myself to cum in those few months. There was no risk of them enjoying it… and I was coming to face it that unwilling pussy just felt better. I needed more.

So, after I moved home to the big city, I made sure to prepare properly. I purchased a few pills from an old friend, bought some equipment… and then I started hunting. Let me tell you detectives, I spent hours in clubs, watching oblivious women filter in and out as I considered my options. There’s a sense of power in stalking future prey, in seeing a hundred potential victims dance and party around you, knowing that you could end any of their lives and they’d be helpless to stop you.

But there was also still a trepidation inside me… I wasn’t confident yet to take what I wanted. It wasn’t until I’d been doing it for nearly two weeks, at nearly one in the morning when the frantic energy of the club had just passed its peak and was beginning to wane, that I found the will to make my move.

I’d been looking for lesbians, of course… and there was one girl in particular that caught my eye. She was black, average height, neither notably slim nor well-endowed but she was drop dead gorgeous. More to the point, though, she carried herself with a certain bitchiness that was difficult to look away from. She sat at the bar alone, tossing her back-length mane of raven black hair about and scowling at any man who dared to approach like they were a personal affront to her. If they persisted, she would let them buy her a drink, but she got rid of them right after… never letting their advances progress any further. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be such a desperate man, throwing oneself at a woman that’s so clearly disinterested in any potential company, but I understand why they tried. She was wearing high shorts that hugged her ass and a low-cut tank top that exposed her midriff along with knee-high heeled boots, all over a full-body fishnet stocking. Everything she wore was in shades of black, complemented by matching eyeliner and lipstick. I would have thought that it wouldn’t have shown up as well with her skin, but I would have been wrong.

Anyway, that got me interested… but I hadn’t been sure until the first woman came over to hit on her. Watching the difference in her reaction I knew I had found my next target.

I waited a few hours before I approached her with confidence and sat beside her without asking permission. She looked at me with a sneer, her dark brown eyes sizing me up disdainfully. “Not interested,” she said. She shooed me off with a wave of her hand and looked away. I wasn’t bothered by her dismissal, of course. I’d have what I wanted from her either way. I flagged down the bartender with a finger, ordering the both of us a drink. It was a busy night and a poorly lit room, and she was too busy glaring at me to notice as the tablet fell from my fingers into her drink.

“My name’s Grant,” I said, bumping the glass against her elbow. She rounded on me with a fierce frown, but accepted the drink nonetheless. “What should I call you?”

“You shouldn’t call me anything, simp.” She scoffed and raised the glass to her thin lips, turning to scan the dance floor again. “I’m not interested in your pencil dick.”

“And you think I’m interested in you, you flat-chested bitch?” I shot back.

You should’ve seen the look in her eyes… honestly detectives, I don’t know why you ladies get so insecure about the size of your tits. Maybe you poor dykes have it rough and women are more judgemental, but the kind of tits that guys like is “existing.” She glared at me, balling up one hand into a tight fist on the bartop. She brought her glass to her lips and tossed the entire contents back, then grabbed mine and splashed my own drink onto my chest. A round of childish ‘ooohs’ came from nearby clubgoers as she stood. “Asshole!” She stormed off before I could respond, heading straight for the restroom. I was left alone and wet with several bemused glances thrown my way, but that was fine. I didn’t move. Last thing I wanted was to be seen following her right away, and so I turned away from the bar and offered an apologetic shrug towards the crowd. I could be patient.

The crowd, however, could not… deprived of their entertainment I didn’t have to wait long for them to get bored and look away, returning to their dancing. Then I paid the bartender and slipped off to follow after her in silence.

The drug worked quickly, I knew… it wasn’t a date rape drug or anything like that. Instead it would just make her feel sick to her stomach, and relax her muscles… leaving her nice and helpless. I followed her with my eyes without approaching until she went for the back of the club. This place didn’t have separate men’s or women’s rooms… instead, it had a short line of individual unisex rooms, and I had made careful note of which one she’d gone for. She hadn’t neglected to turn the bolt in her anger, unfortunately, but the locks were cheap, and it took me barely two seconds to pull out my knife, slid it under the bolt, and work the door open. Then-

“You followed her into the bathroom?” Isabella asked with a shiver. “Creep.”

Grant arched his brow. “Really, detective? All this, and that’s what bothers you? A small transgression of societal norms?” He chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you might actually just be jealous. I imagine you’ve never had a man want you enough to follow you anywhere, whether you asked them to or not.”

“Hey!” Zahira stepped forward and slammed a palm onto the table with enough force to startle Isabella. She stared into Grant’s eyes, speaking in a low voice. “Focus, asshole. Continue.”

Anyway! She was standing up when I came in, leaning on the sink with her head in her arms, but she looked up when she heard the click of the door shutting behind me. She jumped a little and I noticed with pleasure that her posture was shaky, footing unsteady. That same fierce frown was still plastered over her pretty face, though. “What the fuck? Did you follow me in here, limp dick?” She jabbed a finger behind me. “Get the fuck out! I told you I’m not interested!”

“That’s no way to speak to a man that buys you a drink.” I held my hands up as if in surrender, but I didn’t move away from the door. “Maybe if you give me a kiss, I’ll forgive you.”

“Oh, I’ll give you a fucking kiss, scumbag!” She reeled back and threw her entire body into a punch aimed straight for my face. I’m sure it would’ve hurt, too, if she’d landed it… if she wasn’t already feeling the effects of the drug and no doubt having trouble seeing straight.

I stepped out of the way easily, catching her around her midriff and tossing her back towards the toilet seat. “You missed, slut.”

She answered me with a primal snarl, shoving herself back to her feet and going to ram her shoulder into my chest. Again I dodged her, this time catching the back of her shirt and pulling her back into me. I squeezed her against my chest and bit at her ear, one hand coming up to squeeze her tits. Despite her rage, I could feel her trembling against me, and I’m certain she could feel my cock stiffening within my pants.

“Help!” she shouted. “I need help in here!” She went to drive her elbow into my side, but I shoved away before the blow could connect. She caught herself on the wall and turned unsteadily to face me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes unfocused. “H… help!” Her voice was weaker than it should have been. “What… what the… Did… did you… drug me?” She was breathing hard enough that even her smaller breasts were heaving as she blinked several times. “F-fucking…”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she came at me again, struggling to keep her balance. No one could hear her over the pounding music, hell, I could barely hear her in this room over the way it throbbed and swelled. I stepped backwards and watched her flail for a moment, her posture hunched as sweat began to break out on her clammy skin. Instead of a punch, she tripped, and the club girl ended up leaning weakly against my chest, clinging to me for support.

I could’ve stripped her and had my way with her right then. The drug had taken its toll and she was practically helpless, despite the angry mutterings she was able to squeeze out between confused groans. But she’d insulted me earlier, and soiled my good shirt, and I felt like getting some revenge first. I grabbed a handful of her hair and peeled her off me, holding her up at arm’s length. She hiccuped, eyes glassy and mouth gaping. I drew my fist back, lined myself up, and smashed it right into her bitchy face.

She cried out as she crumpled away from me, landing in a heap on the floor. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins now, the blood swelling into my cock and my knuckles tingling with the feedback from the punch. Again I had that sense of power, of dominating this pathetic woman that had thought herself the better of me. She groaned and rolled onto her side, clutching at her face, and I walked around her and delivered a sharp kick to her gut.

She retched as she was knocked onto her back once more. I straddled her hips and grabbed the hem of her shirt in both hands, ripping it open with a snort of effort. To my pleasure, the whore had no bra underneath, her ebony breasts held in only by the criss-cross fishnet of her stocking. You can imagine how I felt when I realized those nipples were pierced, detectives… I grabbed one of them between my fingers and pulled until she screamed. “Shut up.” I hit her again, hard across the face, and felt the crunch of bones fracturing against my fist. Her scream turned to a gurgling moan as she spat blood, her pink tongue hanging loosely from her gaping mouth as she rolled her head dumbly to either side.

My hands wrapped around her slender throat, constricting her breath. She didn’t react at first, but after several seconds she seemed to finally realize she was being choked and brought one hand up to scratch loosely at mine. I grabbed her wrist and pinned it under my knee, then resumed squeezing the life out of her with both hands, leaning in close and watching the way her glazed eyes roamed across the ceiling. Her mouth flapped open and closed uselessly and her tits bounced up and down as she tried to buck me off. I have to tell you, officers… It was intoxicating. I nearly killed her right then… But I hadn’t come to the club just to kill. I relaxed my hold on her throat and pulled her up to her knees as she sucked in a wretched breath, quickly undoing my belt and pulling my cock out.

I slapped her across the face with my meat, smirking as she flinched back. That right there… That reaction was exactly what I was looking for. Instinctively recoiling in disgust… it was perfect. “Suck my dick, cunt.”

I was patient, you know. I wanted her to actually do it herself. But when she finally caught her breath enough to answer me, all she said was, “No. You… suck… mine.”

“Hah!” Isabella snorted, clapping her hands as she laughed. “I like her!”

“I’m sure you do.” Grant’s smile never faltered. “I liked her very much, too. So, detective… will you ever let her parents hear this recording? I’m sure they’d love to know how I beat and raped their little girl.”

That gave her pause. Her laugh died in her throat as she stiffened, fixing him with an angry glare. “You’re a monster, Grant. I’m going to enjoy it when they execute you for this… when they use this confession as the noose. I’m going to sit in that room, and I’m going to volunteer to push one of the plungers… and you know what, rapist? I’m going to pray. I’m going to pray that mine is the one that kills you.”

He laughed. “You’re such a fiery woman, detective,” Grant said, adjusting himself in his seat and not seeming to be very bothered. “You remind me of her, you know. She had a lot of spunk to her, too, at least at first. Until I put her in her place.” He looked her over and licked his lips. “Then she was filled with a very different kind of spunk. You’d be the same, I think.”

Isabella shivered. She could feel him undressing her with his eyes, imagining what he’d do to her. She didn’t want to think about it. “Watch yourself,” she warned. “I already have enough material to put you behind bars. There’s nothing keeping me from walking away right now and getting you back on trial.”

“No?” He cocked his head innocently. “But if you walk away now, the families of my undiscovered victims will never get any closure. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

She glowered at him, but said nothing.

“Not to mention I thought you wanted to execute me,” he said with a smirk. “What’s the lowest number of murders a killer has been sentenced to die for in this state? Three solid confessions? Right now you have one. If you want, we can stop, but…”

“Keep going,” Zahira said quietly.

Grant smiled.

As you wish, detectives. Anyway… I’m sure she felt very proud of her defiance, the black bitch. Happy with how she had stood up to the big bad abuser. That lasted about until I broke her jaw on my fist.

She spun as I struck her, landing face down against the grimy bathroom tile, but I gave her no time to rest. Just as soon as she’d hit the floor I pulled her back up by her hair, pulled her limp jaw wide open, and shoved my shaft down her throat.

She retched, her hands came up and scrabbled against my thighs as I pushed myself as far down as I could go. Her body fought me, gagging and coughing with full-body spasms that made her throat squeeze pleasantly around my shaft, and her tongue pressed insistently against my cockhead in a vain attempt to push me out that only sent tingles of pleasure through me. Every time she gagged it would push me back one inch, and I’d tighten my hold on her hair and force myself back in two. I glared down into her glassy eyes the whole time, watching them flick and dart about in panic as her makeup ran down her dark cheeks in ragged black tears.

Finally my balls slapped against her chin. She was growing weak, unable to breathe past my girth, her legs splayed out haphazardly beneath her and her hands slowly sliding down my thighs as frothy spit dripped down onto her bare tits. I sighed, relishing the way her struggles pleasured my cock, and finally pulled back.

As soon as she gasped in a breath, I forced myself into her once more. I pistoned her throat with angry grunts, grabbing the back of her head with both hands and using her to jerk myself off… knowing just how helpless she was to bite really did it for me, you know? Her neck bulged out obscenely with every thrust, and her tits swayed and bounced against my knees every time I pulled her against me. Her face, once so haughty and clean, was a mess of spit, tears, and snot, the mixture dripping wetly down my balls and splattering against her tits until they glistened in the ruddy yellow bathroom light. A ring of black lipstick formed around the base of my shaft, messy streaks of it running up and down the length.

She pounded her fists against me, but I barely felt it. All I felt was the sweet, wet grip of her throat convulsing over my cock, the tight pressure around my tip every time I shoved it down her gullet, the shivering moans and shrieks of her muffled voice as she struggled to form words. I dragged her across the floor and fucked her face into the wall, pounding the back of her head against the hard tile just as I slammed my groin into her face. Whether from the lack of oxygen or the battering on her skull, she eventually lost the ability to fight and let her hands fall limply to her side. She sat dumbly on the floor with her legs bouncing limply between my spread feet, eyes fluttering back into her head and tits jerking under my balls, the only signs of life were her increasingly infrequent wet retches and the occasional twitch of her hands.

I felt myself growing close, and I pulled out of her with a loud groan, tossing her face down onto the floor and jerking myself off over her curled up, coughing form. I didn’t want to just cum down the bitch’s throat and choke her on my dick, you see. I wanted her to recognize that I owned her.

While she laid there, coughing and soaking in my cum, I leaned down and tore her shorts off, ignoring her mumbled complaints and weak attempts to kick or push at me. Her wallet fell loose, and I picked it up, pulling out her driver’s license.

“Aliyah? That’s your name?” I shook my head and tossed the wallet aside. “You dress like a slut. I’m sure your parents are quite proud.”

Panting heavily, she cracked an eye open and blinked up at me. “I won’t… be talked down to… by a rapist.” Her words were slurred and barely understandable… the drugs and the broken jaw combining to make her speech almost nothing.

“Not just a rapist.” I pursed my lips and squatted down beside her. “Also a killer.”

She didn’t say anything, only continued to glare. It impressed me, really. Her ability to keep some semblance of pride despite her face being slathered in spit and runny makeup and her lower jaw askew. I prodded her with a finger, causing her to wince as I disturbed her bruised face. “Beg for your life.”

She couldn’t spit, but she found the energy to raise a hand and flick me off.

“Hmm.” I nodded, working my jaw side to side. “I’ll make you beg.”

I grabbed her hand before she could pull back, pulling it into my chest. My other hand came up and wrapped around her extended middle finger, pulled back, and snapped it like a twig. A loud groan came out past her lips, but she refused to give me the satisfaction of a scream, and so I stood and dragged her roughly towards the toilet. She seemed to be getting some of her strength back, kicking and scratching at me, but I barely felt it past the rush of adrenaline as I hauled her up onto her knees and shoved her face-first into the murky toilet water.

Bubbles splashed up around her as her ragged black hair swirled through the water, her hands slipping off the edges of the toilet bowl in a frantic attempt to push her head up. “Ready to beg yet?” I growled, raising one hand high and delivering a stinging slap against her ass. She jerked, a muffled shout barely audible from within the toilet, and I grabbed the hem of her shorts and tore them down to her knees, exposing her tight ass laced with fishnet. I spanked her again, harder, the impact sending a sharp ripple across her asscheek, and this time I gave it a hard squeeze, relishing the toned muscle under the soft fat.

She began to kick at me, her legs flailing out in every direction. I grabbed at the fishnet around her thigh intending to use it to spread her legs, but with another powerful kick the stocking came clean off in my hand.

I sighed and pulled her head out of the water, ignoring her ragged coughing and wheezing. “Ready to beg yet?”

“F-fuck—mmf!”

I wrapped the stocking around her throat, pulling back tight and making her eyes bulge. Just as she opened her mouth wide to try and gasp in air past the makeshift garrote I pushed her under the water again, grinning at the powerful convulsions that rocked through her body beneath me. I lined myself up behind her, my dick bouncing off her ass as I spread her thighs with my own, but it was impossible to get inside her with how hard she was fighting me.

“Hold still, cunt!” I slammed my fist into the back of her head, dazing her just long enough that I could push my cock into her pussy. She wasn’t wet, and god she was tight, and the sounds of her gurgling shrieks more than made up for the lack of lubrication as I clenched my jaw and began to fuck her with short, powerful thrusts. Blood dripped down the inside of her thighs, followed soon by a slight trail of glistening wetness as her body surrendered to its purpose, easing my passage.

Finally she got a grip on the toilet and, pushing with all her might, managed to lift her head out of the water.

“Please!” I pushed her down again, but she resurfaced a moment later, sputtering and slurring and choking out her words with a broken jaw. I was able to piece them together, though. “Please let me go! I’ll beg!” Another dip into the water, and another frantic struggle to breathe. “I’ll do anything! I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life!”

“Told you I’d make you beg.” I grinned, putting more weight on her head and forcing it back under the water. I’m not sure if she could hear me, but I leaned down to hiss my next words nonetheless. “And you’re already my slave for the rest of your life.”

“You fucking sadist,” Isabella spat. “You were never going to spare her, were you?”

Grant blinked, his eyes refocusing as the question broke his reverie. “Well, I suppose it was possible… but not after I got started, no. That would’ve defeated the purpose. Let me tell you something I learned, Detective…” He smiled at her. “When I fucked that nameless, irrelevant little pink-haired jizzrag in that filthy alley it was hot… but I hadn’t intended to kill her. Hadn’t realized I would need to. Hadn’t been thinking about it. This time, I was thinking about nothing else… and let me tell you, there is a difference. There is nothing, nothing in the whole world as liberating as raping a bitch you know you’re going to kill. It’s like, nothing at all matters anymore, except for how it made me feel. It was magical… and once I realized that, no… there was no chance of her being spared.”

“Why even bother trying to make her believe you would, then?” she asked with a disgusted shake of her head.

“Why not?” Grant could only shrug and smile. It infuriated her, that smile. “She was only there to get me off. Am I not allowed to play with my food? It wasn’t like she was going to get to stick around to be annoyed about it… and I would get to enjoy the horrified, helpless look in her eyes for a decade. More than a fair trade, no?”

I think you can understand that I didn’t think to look at my watch while her body was squeezing me, but I can say with certainty that I spent at least the next half hour fucking that slut into the toilet. The rush of power was… is… intoxicating, arousing — I could’ve pumped her full of cum within thirty seconds if I’d wanted to. I was loathe to waste such an opportunity by rushing through it, though. So I paced myself, fucking her with a steady, measured pace, allowing her to breathe every minute or so to ensure she didn’t break until I was ready. She begged me every time, offering everything she could think of in slurred, malformed words through her broken jaw. She offered me money, offered me her womb, told me she could pick locks or lure other women in to serve me in her stead. She swore she would never tell a soul. She would have, I’m certain – You can never, ever trust a bitch. It didn’t matter. Even if every promise was entirely true, I would’ve done her all the same. After a certain point, I just stopped listening.

She was nothing like the first girl. The girl I’d snuffed in the alley months ago had been skinny and weak, noteworthy only for the tits she’d been born with. This one was fit, strong, with a toned body marked by tattoos and old scars. She put up a fight, but drugged as she was I barely had to even try to subdue her… she was completely at my mercy now, and I exploited every part of her. I caressed my hands up the smooth curve of her back and the flat lines of her belly. I smacked her tight ass, groping and squeezing it and pulling her asscheeks apart to watch the way they bounced on my cock. I pinched her nipples as they were squeezed between her chest and the toilet rim, twisting her piercings until she screamed.

And of course I fucked her, detectives. Our hips connected with wet, meaty slaps as I plunged my cock deep into her pussy, groaning in pleasure as her clenching walls slid over my shaft. I don’t know if she enjoyed it and I don’t care. The wet squeeze of her cunt, its warmth, the shuddering of her body beneath mine, the thick femme nectar that dripped down my balls and pooled between her ankles along with the blood of her rape, I rode every sensation on a wave of ecstasy that lingered just under orgasm, slowing my pace whenever I came too close to climax.

When I finally came I did it with a mighty groan, pulling her stocking taut around her throat and laying my entire weight on her back. Her legs kicked out behind me as my balls tightened and I pumped the first rope of thick white cum into her pussy, constricting her lungs with my weight. I grunted as I packed my load deep into her womb, pulling back a couple inches just so I could slam inside once more, feel the impact of her ass against my groin and grind against her, driven by an instinctive need to get my cum as deep into her as possible… knocking her up the way every cunt, dyke or not, was meant for. Not that it mattered for this one. Whether I impregnated her or not, by the time I came down from my high she was barely moving. A few seconds longer and she had gone still.

I stepped back to admire my work, cleaning the excess cum off on her dark, bruised ass. The goth bitch had been all but stripped, her shorts hanging around her knees and her body stocking ripped in several places. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her head bobbed gently in the toilet water, legs splayed wide at an angle that would’ve been painful if she was still alive. I found myself staring at the thick dollops of my own cum welling in her cunt and dripping down the inside of her leg in a thin trail.

There’s really nothing I love more than seeing my own seed leak out of a freshly killed cunt.

I kept her driver’s license… my little trophy to remember her by. I pulled my pants up, washed my hands and face, and peeked out the door. Finding no one waiting, I slipped out and left her there to be found — or used — by whoever used the room next. Wouldn’t matter to me… by then, I would be gone.

A heavy silence hung in the air as he finished. Isabella leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms under her breasts and tapping a finger irritably as she glared at him. Grant arched a brow. A few seconds passed, and no one said anything. “Nothing to say, detective?”

She didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under her skin, and yet she was painfully aware of just how obvious it was anyways. It was all she could do but breathe in deep and close her eyes, thinking of how it would all be worth it once this smug asshole got a lethal injection. Just one more iron-clad confession and she would be done with this bastard. Zahira stepped up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. Isabella couldn’t help but lean into the touch, closing her eyes.

“Aww. How sweet,” Grant mused. “Do you think about how nice it is, that we live in a society where such affections can be openly displayed?”

“What do you mean?” Zahira asked. Isabella pursed her lips. Her partner should’ve known better than to take his bait.

Isabella grabbed Zahira’s hand and gave it a small squeeze before gently pushing it off her shoulder. “We’re just friends.”

“Ah, you don’t have to be shy. Some people hate you still, but as a whole, society accepts girl on girl love now. It’s so much better. Of course the religious folk are still disgusted by you, but we can all look down on those idiots.”

“ ‘We’?” Isabella sneered. “As if you aren’t just like them.”

“Meeee?” Grant said, his face twisting into a disbelieving expression right out of a silent movie. “Surely you don’t lump me in with those people, detective. I love lesbians. I don’t want them – you – to disappear… why, if I had my way there would be more of you.” He shook his head. “Bisexual girls don’t really do it for me, I’m afraid. It’s not about disgust for what you get up to in bed… it’s just about my enjoyment. Only the ones that would never, ever take a man willingly to bed… I treasure them the most. Hate you? I’m your biggest fan, detective. It’s not my fault you’re made to be the perfect masturbatory aids for me.”

“You’re disgusting,” she sneered.

“No, no… what was disgusting was when you needed to hide. I’m sure you remember what it was like back before dykes like yourselves were more normalized.” He smirked, tilting his head as if he thought he was cute. “How long ago was it the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage?”

He looked between them. “I’ve been thinking about what to tell you next. The singer in the back of her own van? You already know about the twitch streamer, or I’d love to tell you all about her. Mmm, so many of my greatest hits are the ones you’ve already failed to convict me on. Maybe I should tell you about the tourist from Japan, you don’t know about her… I was thinking about the dominatrix who actually booked a session with me thinking I was a woman, but… then the two of you inspired me.”

He smiled at them. “The Supreme Court changed everything for both of us, didn’t it?” Grant continued, a smile appearing on his face as he leaned back with a wistful sigh. “Weddings are such lovely occasions, and honeymoons are supposed to be such special times. I have to tell you about the best wedding gift I ever gave… and the best vacation I ever took…”

They were such a cute couple. You almost remind me of them, you know, though of course they were far more openly affectionate towards each other than you two. I wasn’t invited to the wedding, of course, but I found a video of it later to watch. I couldn’t help but marvel at how passionately they kissed when the vows were said, pressing their fat tits together. I don’t know if they even wore bras under their dresses, or panties, now that I think of it. The wedding isn’t where the story really starts, though. They were just so damn proud to be gay, detective… so proud to be the first lesbian couple in the city – just behind the gay dudes who got all the press – to tie the knot after that they actually put an ad in the paper for it themselves, as if the whole city should care about it. I doubt most people paid attention. I suppose in the end, though, their ad reached me and I did care… though maybe not in the way they expected. A honeymoon on the beach resort just out of town…

It was easy to get entry to the reception, and easier still to follow the couple when they finally drove off at the end of the night. They led me to an isolated, quiet little beach house at the end of a lonely road, wonderfully far away from everything else. I just parked my car down the road a bit and napped for an hour to let them get settled and for the sun to finish going down, and only then did I prowl up to the house in the dark.

The lights were out in most of the windows, and when I tried the front door I found it unlocked. I guess their privacy and excitement blinded them to the importance of locking their doors behind them… not that it would have stopped me if they had. A discarded wedding dress was left abandoned in the foyer, dropped on the ground in casual haste, and I caught sight of a warm, flickering orange glow from an open door deeper inside. I could make out moans and taunts as I quietly stepped up to the doorway and peeked around the corner… and I had to smile when I saw what was waiting for me.

I had been a little worried about subduing two girls at once… I’d been thinking for a while about how I’d do it, how I might be able to isolate them or hold them with a weapon. In the end, it didn’t matter – the silly, horny dykes had done half the work for me! A soft-bodied, dark-skinned brunette – Indian, I think – had been tied spread eagle to a luxurious bed, still mostly wearing her wedding dress despite the vibrator jammed up her cunt. Her heavy breasts had been pulled free and left to spill out to either side of her chest, her nipples swaying mesmerizingly as she twitched and squirmed in response to the toy buzzing away inside her.

Her wife walked into view a few seconds later, brandishing a stark black crop, whipping it across the inside of the brunette’s thighs and saying something I couldn’t quite make out. She was blonde and skinny, wearing a black leather corset that hugged her tanned skin and pushed her tits up to accentuate her cleavage. She leaned over the quivering Indian girl and began to suck and lick at her nipples, one hand brushing teasingly over the bound woman’s clit before drawing back and smacking hard across her slit.

A part of me wanted to wait and watch the show, but I didn’t want to risk passing up such an amazing opportunity. I stepped into the room, silently pulling a knife out from my pocket and coming up behind the domme. Her wife spotted me immediately, her eyes shooting wide open. “Marissa!”

The domme giggled, biting her lip and tweaking a finger across the sub’s clit in slow circles. “That’s Mistress to you,” she purred. “Enjoying yourself so much you’re getting forgetful, pet? Our night’s only just started…”

“Then I hope you don’t mind if I join,” I said, grabbing the domme’s hair and jerking her roughly against me, my knife coming up against her exposed throat as she let out a shocked gasp. I leaned in, inhaling her scent and kissing her warm, soft skin. “It seemed like a lovely wedding. Let me help make it a celebration to remember.”

“W-who are you?” the domme asked shakily. “I’ll scream!”

“I certainly hope so,” I said, tightening my grip on her hair until she winced in pain. “Fortunately you’ve chosen an oh-so-isolated little location.”

“Don’t hurt her!” the sub said, her fat tits bouncing as she fought the velvet ropes binding her limbs.

“Laasya, it’s okay!” Marissa said, dropping her crop and raising her hands in surrender. “Our purses are in the kitchen! Please, just take what you want!”

I smiled at that. “Don’t worry. That was already the plan.” I turned the knife around and drew the blunt side across Elena’s throat, causing both women to let out panicked shrieks. Laasya began to sob as I brought the sharp edge back to bear, pressing it against Elena’s skin. “Your woman is already ready… but you’re slacking behind. Take your panties off, dyke.”

She blinked, her eyes widening in realization, and I tightened my grip on her hair for emphasis. She sputtered a wordless beg, one hand flying down to hurriedly tug at her panties and slide them down over the curve of her ass. She shook her hips in her haste to get them off, inadvertently brushing against my hardening cock and shuddering as she did. “Good.” I let go of her hair and delivered a hard smack to her exposed asscheek, grabbing tight and jerking her about as I squeezed the firm flesh. “Now pick it up. Stuff them in your pet’s mouth.”

The girl grimaced, but another rough shake was enough to remind her who was in charge. She leaned forwards, half-climbing up onto the bed as she reached up and gingerly pressed her panties — the thin black fabric visibly soaked with her arousal — to her lover’s lips. Laasya didn’t hesitate to open her mouth, letting Elena push them inside.

I sighed, pulling on Elena’s hair and shoving her hard into the nearest wall. Her shriek turned into a dazed moan as she bounced off the wall and crumpled into a shivering ball, rubbing at the back of her head.

“Useless slut. You call that a gag?” I stalked around the bed and grabbed Laasya’s throat, causing the curvy sub’s eyes to shoot wide open in fear as a full-body cringe rocked through her. She screamed as I brought the knife up, shoving it into her mouth, but rather than cut her I used the blade to push the cloth to the back of her mouth, deep enough that she wouldn’t be able to work it out just with her tongue. She fought against her bindings, causing her tits to sway and her nipples to brush enticingly against my elbow, and I couldn’t help but deliver a sharp open-palmed smack against the nearest one, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze as she whimpered.

“You stay there,” I mocked the bound girl as I walked back to where Elena was still groaning on the floor. Confident that the knife was no longer necessary, I slid it back into my sheath and hauled her to her feet. She babbled something I didn’t care about as I threw her in between her lover’s spread thighs, pushing her face down between Laasya’s big, coffee colored tits. I kicked Elena’s legs apart, bringing my cock out with my free hand and slapping it against her asscheeks.

“P-please!” Elena sputtered, struggling to speak with my hand forcing her face into her lover’s chest. “I don’t— I’m not into m-men! Please!”

I laughed. “I know… That’s entirely the point, you stupid dyke.” I spit onto her exposed asshole, rubbing my saliva in with the tip of my rock-hard cock. “This wouldn’t be half as fun if you were. I bet you’re awfully tight in here. Am I your first?”

“Please!” she screamed, her breath coming in short, panicked pants. I grinned, pressing my dick against her asshole teasingly, and she tried to push herself up, flailing her arms wildly. I responded with a punch to the back of her head, knocking her limp on top of her lover with a stupid groan.

I forced myself into her without ceremony, grunting as the tight ring of her asshole squeezed almost painfully hard around my cock. Her entire body tensed beneath me, her ass clamping down so hard I couldn’t even pull out, let alone push in further. “Relax!” I smacked her ass, leaving a red mark in the shape of my hand. “You’re only making this harder for yourself!”

Both women had descended into frantic sobbing by now, and I sighed as I realized they weren’t going to be cooperative. But I had plenty of time, and so I set to working my way deeper into Elena’s tight asshole. It was slow going, she fought me every step of the way, but that made it all the more satisfying when I’d push in and feel another inch of my cock sink into that sublime, squeezing heat, her hoarse voice rising into fresh begs and screams. She was tight and fit, with a springy, firm ass that I had great fun spanking and smacking until it was raw and red and slick with sweat. And all the while her wife could do nothing but lie beneath her and make comforting moans through her gag — or maybe she was begging me to stop. I’m not sure. I’m sure I didn’t care.

Finally the dyke’s body gave in, and with a triumphant groan I pumped my hips and hilted deep in her ass. I sighed, relishing the sensation of her hot flesh flexing and squeezing around me as her blood dripped down onto my balls. The Indian girl moaned beneath her, looking up at me in horror as her lover screamed. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, by the way,” I said, grinning down at Laasya. She whimpered, eyes widening as my hand drifted towards the little pink button strapped to the inside of her thigh, a slim cord trailing towards her pussy. She shook her head frantically, only to tense and groan as I turned the little knob on the button all the way up, sending the vibrator that’d been buried in her cunt all this time into overdrive.

She let out a long, husky moan through the panties shoved into her throat, throwing her head back and shuddering as her eyes rolled back. With the submissive dyke shivering in ecstasy around a vibe and her mistress-wife trembling in pain around my cock, I settled into a relaxed rhythm, callously fucking the pale skinned bitch on top of her lover. Her ass began to loosen up just slightly as I broke her in, her own blood serving as lube for her rape. She grimaced and cried out with every thrust of my hips, tears welling in her eyes and dripping down onto her lover’s tits, her ass milking up my length and sending waves of pleasure through my body.

To be honest, I barely paid any mind to the physicality of it. Not that I didn’t enjoy having a trembling dyke’s ass squeezing my cock, the feeling of hot, tight warmth wrapped around my length, the satisfying slap of my hips against her ass or the way her tight buttocks rippled and bounced under the impact, mind you. It was nice, but the real pleasure came from the mind. How happy must this couple have been, finally wed and secreted away in their little beach house to enjoy a loving honeymoon? And now I had one of them spasming in pain as I reamed her asshole with my cock, while her lover could do little more than cum helplessly beneath her and watch me rape her senseless. It was perfect. I wasn’t a rookie at this anymore but I knew, even then, that this was one I would treasure forever. I don’t know quite how long I spent like that, pounding that dyke’s ass while her blood dripped down to stain my balls. I know that I stretched it out longer than I needed to. Whenever I came close I would slow and lie down atop her, kissing at her neck and shoulders, caressing her trembling body and giving myself time to recover.

But I didn’t intend to spend all day fucking one hole. Finally I let myself finish, bottoming out in the blonde’s bloodied ass as my cock swelled up and my balls churned against her. I pumped my seed deep into her asshole as she shivered and wailed beneath me, then pulled out with a satisfied sigh and cleaned the mess off on her reddened rear.

And that was just the first day.

“Wait, first day?” Isabella knew she shouldn’t take his bait, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to know more.

“Of course!” Grant smirked back at her. “What, did you think it was always quick? Always just a few hours of pleasure with one of these disposable toys then gone? No… these two were going on honeymoon for a whole week, you know. Seven days where nobody would come looking for them. It’d be a waste to finish things up so quickly…”

Isabella clenched her fist on the table, her lips twisting into an ugly scowl. “Is it because they were gay? Couldn’t get over the idea that some woman out there wouldn’t want to touch your little dick?” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. She wanted to hurt him.

“Izzy, relax.” Zahira placed a hand over hers, leaning down and lowering her voice. “He’s just trying to get in our head. We have to stay focused.”

“I already told you. It’s not about revenge, Detective,” Grant said. “It’s really just about having fun. But it does make things far much better when I can be sure the bitch I’m raping isn’t enjoying it in the slightest.”

“Fuck you,” she growled.

“Are you volunteering yourself?” Grant said with a sneer. “So noble, detective…”

Anyway, if I can continue now? I let them have the rest of the day off… it had been a long day for me, too, after all. The beach house was well-stocked, and so after tying my new toys up in their bedroom — I left the sub cumming on the bed where I’d found her, and used some cuffs of my own to secure the passed out blonde to the heavy ornate wardrobe — I went and raided their kitchen. They had plenty of leftovers from the wedding reception, as well as an ample supply of various wines, and so I spent the first night out on the porch watching the boats drift by in the distance as I enjoyed my dinner.

I slept peacefully in the spare room, and went to check on them bright and early. Laasya, the sub, had clearly gotten no sleep whatsoever. She remained tied spread-eagle on the bed, moaning weakly, thighs shuddering and sheets soaked in sweat and girlcum. She didn’t react as I walked up and slid one hand along the inside of her thigh, my thumb spreading her slit to reveal the little pink vibe still buzzing away within. I pulled it out all at once, drawing a sudden series of shivers from her, her pussy twitching and clenching reflexively.

Next I turned to the domme, Elena. She was still wearing that tight black corset that so well accentuated her tits, but she looked more like a slave than a master with the way she’d curled up on the floor with her wrists cuffed over her head. I squatted down in front of her and pulled out a cigarette box I’d found in the kitchen, lighting it up and waving the smoking tip in front of her face.

Her nose scrunched up, her eyes flicking fitfully open a moment later. She blinked up at me in confusion, lips hanging open dumbly.

“Smoke?” I held the cig towards her lips, the smoldering tip pointed back at me.

Her brow furrowed, and her lip curled back in a snarl of recognition. She drew her head back and spat in my face. “Rapist asshole!” she hissed, voice hoarse. “You’re a monster!”

“Hmm.” I grunted, standing and wiping her spit off my face. Without speaking I ambled over to Laasya, who was staring up at the ceiling with a glazed, unfocused expression. I grabbed one of her tits and gave it a rough squeeze, feeling the clammy sweat clinging to her skin and brushing my thumb over the hard nub of her nipple. It was a good size, more than enough to fill my hand, and I couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze harder, painfully hard, digging my nails in and giving the teat a little shake. She whimpered weakly, rolling her head side to side.

I glanced towards Elena, meeting her glare with a playful smirk, and held up the burning cigarette. Not breaking eye contact, I turned the cigarette down and pressed it firmly into Laasya’s nipple.

The sizzling of her skin burning was drowned out quickly by Laasya’s shrill scream, the thick-bodied slut arching her back and thrashing against her bindings. Her breasts bounced and swayed, slapping against each other with wet, sweaty smacks.

“W-wait!” Elena cried, trying to reach out towards her lover in vain despite her manacles. “Laasya!”

I didn’t look away, watching fresh tears bud in her eyes as the screaming sub writhed. I just pressed the cigarette in deeper, pushing a divot into the fat bouncing tit until the sizzling stopped, the whore’s screams had fallen to exhausted sobs, and the oddly enticing scent of cooked flesh wafted through the air.

Finally I turned to witness the result myself, flicking the spent cigarette to the floor. Laasya’s right nipple was just an ugly red scar, the sensitive bud pressed onto its side and burn-fused temporarily to her areola. A mad urge came over me, and I leaned down and took it into my mouth, one hand coming up to squeeze and knead the breast when the slut started shaking and whimpering yet again. I hummed around her, pinching her nipple and rolling it between my teeth, driving her cries up to a wretched shriek.

“Stop!” Elena shouted. The wardrobe she was cuffed against groaned as she dragged it across the floor millimeters at a time, fighting to reach me. “Fucking stop!”

“Why should I?” I asked, turning and leaning down until I was almost nose to nose with her. I arched a brow and cocked my head, watching her eyes flick from me to her tortured wife.

“I-I’ll—” she licked her lips “—Fuck me instead. I’ll s-suck your dick!”

“Really? A married dyke like yourself choking on my cock?” I let out an exaggerated hum, looking back to where Laasya was watching with wide, teary eyes. “You know what? I do like that idea.”

“Y-yeah!” Elena said, nodding frantically. “Just leave her alone… I’ll do what you want. You’ll love it!”

“Quiet.” I flicked her between the eyes as I straightened up, my dick twitching to life as a plan formed. “I know you’re a fighter, whore… and those teeth of yours won’t be coming anywhere near me. But you’re not the only one with a warm mouth to fuck, are you?” I turned to Laasya, who shivered as I approached. Though she was tightly bound, the knots had been tied well by her lover and weren’t hard for me to easily undo: it only took me a second to release her wrist. She drew it back to herself instantly, watching as I circled the bed and untied her one limb at a time.

“W-what are you doing?” Elena asked.

Laasya curled back into herself, backing against the headboard and rubbing at her sore joints. The stupid whore didn’t even think to take the panties out of her mouth until I pulled them out myself, tossing them carelessly back over my shoulder. She flinched as I caressed her face, drinking in her fear. My cock was visibly pulsing in anticipation now, rock hard and stiff. I grabbed her cheeks and gave her head a rough shake, growling down at her. “You will call me Master, and nothing else you little fucktoy… understand?”

“Y-yes, Master!” She didn’t even hesitate.

“Laasya!” Elena called. Laasya tried to look away, but I forced her head back to me.

“You do what I say from now on,” I whispered. “If you disobey or upset me, you’ll be punished. Continue to disobey, and I’ll slice off your wife’s clit and feed it to you. And then—” he paused, kissing her softly on the cheek “—I will kill you both. Understood?”

The girl cringed back from my kiss. “Yes, Master.”

It was adorable. Honestly, it’s like she was born to be dominated. “Good little cunt.” I gave her a light slap across the cheek. “Now how about you tie your wife up for me, hmm?” I stepped back and leaned against the wall, brandishing my knife with a casual flick of my wrist. My new pet slid out of bed with surprising speed, kneeling down next to her wife.

“Laasya, no!” Elena wailed. “Don’t listen to him!”

“I h-have to, babe. Sorry!” Laasya sniffled, grabbing Elena’s wrists firmly as she lifted the wardrobe enough to slide the cuffs out. Her more curvy build hid the surprising strength beneath her softness, and I admit that if the girl had actually had the balls to oppose me then she might have caused some trouble. That, or she would have just forced me to kill her sooner. Elena put up barely any fight against her wife as she was pulled towards the bed and made to lie on her back. She just stared stupidly, letting her lover tie her wrists and ankles to the bedposts until she was bound securely, all four limbs stretched out spread eagle. She was decent at it, too… she must have some experience tying up her wife. Maybe they took turns.

Laasya looked to me for approval, and I gave her a small nod. “Undress her.” Elena began to tear up as her sexy corset was undone and her long black stockings rolled down her legs. Soon she was left naked, the nipples cresting her perky tits growing firm in the open air. She glared up at me hatefully while Laasya stepped meekly to the side, her hands held nervously in front of her.

“Now what, you son of a bitch?” Elena asked, voice quavering. “You gonna r-rape me again?”

“Well, yes. Obviously. But I’ll have a helper this time.” I smiled, jerking my head towards Laasya. “Sit on her face, cunt.”

She sobbed a little… but the obedient Indian whore did as she was told. “Y-yes, sir…”

Elena didn’t waste her breath on protesting this time; even she knew that the beautiful submissive girl didn’t have it in her to refuse me. She just shook her head in silence as Laasya climbed onto the bed and straddled her, wrapping her smooth thighs snug around her head.

“Good.” I climbed onto the bed as well, kneeling between Elena’s spread legs and stroking my cock. Though I’d been hard before, my erection had faded somewhat while I waited for my orders to be followed, and so I beckoned to Laasya, holding my dick out intently. She didn’t need to be told what I wanted. With a shaky sigh she leaned down, her big tits mashing against her lover’s toned belly. I smacked her across the face with my dick, then held it expectantly in front of her lips, thrusting callously into her mouth as soon as they parted.

She retched as I sunk down into her throat, her body convulsing pleasantly around me… but she didn’t bite. No, she took my cock like a good girl, all the way down to the base, even when her nose scrunched up in disgust against my coarse pubes. I grabbed a handful of her hair to steady her as I facefucked her, raising my voice to call out over her back. “Enjoying yourself down there, cunt? This isn’t a vacation for you. You’d best be eating your wife’s pussy like a good little dyke,” I said. “Because if she doesn’t cum before I do, I’m going to break her nose.”

Elena’s response was indecipherable past Laasya’s thighs muffling her, but I was just able to make out the wet shlicking of a tongue in action which, combined with Laasya’s toes curling and eyes fluttering, let me know my orders were being followed. I sighed in satisfaction, idly scraping out Laasya’s throat with the bulbous head of my cock, and allowed myself a few minutes to simply enjoy my power over the lesbian whores, and—

Isabella shot up out of her chair and slammed her palms down into the table.

Grant blinked, his eyes refocusing on her as she broke his happy reverie. “Did you have something to say?”

Yes, Isabella wanted to shout. She wanted to scream and kick, to throw his chair back onto the floor and stomp on his head while he was cuffed. This was… somehow worse. He was taking something precious, an interaction they loved and cherished from another, and polluted it… ruining it. She’d despised him before, but after spending so long locked in a room listening to his self-indulgent asides and casual bigotry, her feelings had escalated to full-blown hatred. Even just sitting in the room with him was enough to make her pulse quicken and her heart ache in her breast. Everything in her wanted to lash out… but she had to control herself. As satisfying as it would be to take her rage out on him, she knew it was exactly what he wanted. The entire confession would be worthless in court if she attacked him now, which would mean she’d have not only sat through his manipulations for nothing, but she’d also be directly responsible for him getting away.

Again.

Zahira placed a hand on her shoulder, and Isabella reached up to grab it with her own. She took a deep breath and eased back into her seat, glaring daggers at the man.

Grant met her intense gaze with a relaxed grin, not looking away as he continued his story.

I had them right where I wanted them. Elena tied taut on her back, eating Laasya’s sloppy pussy while I raped her throat. The submissive girl wasn’t wearing any makeup anymore, but that didn’t make the tears streaming from her puffy red eyes any less satisfying. Laasya was actually moaning… her wife must have had a truly talented tongue, and a lot of experience eating her out because even with my dick down her neck she was reacting to the other woman, and so quickly. Still, this was just the first part of my plan. Laasya’s whole body shook with a powerful retch as I finally pulled out of her throat, my cock slathered with frothy spit. “Thanks for warming me up, pet,” I said, tousling her hair. She blinked up at me expectantly, a small moan escaping her as her cunt was serviced.

I adjusted my hips, lining myself up between Elena’s spread legs. Her toned thighs tensed against mine, biceps bulging as she pulled against her bonds, but to no avail. My slickened manhood slid into her pussy with buttery ease, and I groaned at the sensation of her muscular, barely-used cunt squeezing around me. Her anguished scream was well-muffled by Laasya’s thighs, and I paid it no mind, already pumping my hips with a relaxed rhythm. “Remember, Elena,” I said with a raised voice, “if your wife doesn’t cum before I do, she’ll be punished!” I paused to grind hilted against her, my abs bumping against Laasya’s face. “And as tight as you are, I expect you don’t have much time!”

That shut her up, mostly. I could still hear some soft sobbing as I pistoned the dyke’s pussy, but now she was refocused on her goal, on protecting her lover. She was strong-willed, and I loved using that trait against her.

I closed my eyes and grabbed her thighs, relishing the velvety smooth embrace of Elena’s body. There was no rhythm to her spasms — she wasn’t trying to please me, after all — but they felt wonderful all the same. I thrust inside her with primal violence, her natural excitement dripping down and coating my balls in their warm wetness, our bodies meeting with louder and louder slaps of flesh on flesh as the smell of sweat and sex filled the air. Her cunt clenched around me whenever she sobbed, squeezing suddenly down my entire length as if it didn’t want me to leave and sending flashes of tingling ecstasy up my spine. With how good she felt, I could have cum any second, but I worked to stretch it out instead, slowing down whenever the pressure in my balls grew too tight, sometimes even stopping entirely and letting her pussy massage my length on its own. The only reason I didn’t beat her and punish Laasya for her failure was that I wanted to enjoy this for longer.

You could say it wasn’t a very fair competition.

I had no interest in losing, however, and I paid careful attention to Laasya’s demeanor. I watched her begin to relax, her eyes growing unfocused and her mouth hanging open as she let out shaky moans. She was close to popping. I grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her roughly out of her stupor and pushing her face down towards my dick. She needed no instruction, dutifully licking and kissing my cock as I raped her wife. I closed my eyes, switching to shorter, measured thrusts, edging the tip of my cock in and out of Elena’s pussy, letting her convulse and squeeze at the sensitive head. The wet caress of Laasya’s moaning mouth along my shaft added an extra dimension to my pleasure, and the knot of need building in my balls soon overwhelmed me.

I grunted and growled, pulling Laasya’s head away from me so I could slam balls deep into Elena’s pussy. She wailed as she felt my cock swelling, my balls tightening against her, realizing that she had lost the race just as I pumped the first rope of cum deep into her body.

My hips shook as my orgasm rocked through me. I grabbed a handful of Laasya’s firm ass and let out a strained moan, my other hand holding her face just in front of my groin as I packed my load into her wife with sharp, short thrusts. My hard pubic bone smashed into her face over and over, causing her to flinch and cry out and try to pull away, but I held her firm, bludgeoning her nose bloody as I filled her lover with my seed.

When I finally pulled out, spent, I looked down to witness my cum drooling out of Elena’s soaked pussy, chest heaving, and listened to both women’s cries, feeling satisfied. It was an excellent start to the second day, and there was so —

“Are you seriously going to tell us how you raped them every day of the week?” Isabella asked bitterly. “Every day?”

“Why not?” Grant asked innocently. “That’s part of my confession.”

“No! Fuck that. We don’t need to hear that.” Isabella shook her head emphatically, looking to Zahira for support. “We get the damn idea.”

Zahira’s face was flushed with anger, one hand raised to rub against her slim throat as she looked intensely over at the rapist. It took her a moment to realize she was expected to speak, at which point she suddenly stiffened, letting a small growl out. “She’s right. We get it. Skip to the end.”

“Are you sure?” Grant asked, his voice low and oily. “You know, I have a theory that I’ve been nursing for some time now. As weak as any woman is when faced with a powerful man’s cock, I’ve noticed that people who think they have authority… People like cops… are the most submissive of them all. Do you think that’s true?” He pushed his chair back and shifted in his seat, spreading his legs lazily to either side to reveal the long bulge of his dick, hard in his pants. “Being in a room with a man like myself, one who’s bred and owned so many other cunts — it must be torture for you to stand there and only listen. Maybe you’d like to be my next conquest? I may have murdered a dozen women in my life, but I’ve made love to so many more and left them in peace with dumb smiles on their faces.” He smiled, cocking his head slightly. “I’m sure we could enjoy some alone time once I’ve given my confession.”

Tears were welling in Zahira’s eyes. She shivered and looked away, wiping the wetness from her cheeks and mumbling something under her breath.

Fresh anger flared up in Isabella’s breast. How dare this bastard talk to her partner like that! She put herself protectively between Zahira and Grant, glaring at him as she seethed her next words. “Just tell us where you put the bodies, freak. That’s all we need to know.”

“Oh. Hmm. Well.” Grant glanced up to the clock and shrugged. “I suppose it is getting late…”

Earlier I called this a vacation for me. I might have been overly cavalier about it, detectives. It was a lot of hard work, not giving those two sexy sluts a moment of rest. I kept them busy with their misery all hours of the day… but it was worth it. By the time we reached day seven and my little trip was winding down I had finally broken Elena’s spirit. Not that she’d made it easy…

She was a mess of bruises, dried blood, and cum. Her perky tits were stained with messy red blotches where I’d stapled her flesh together, and her nipples were still throbbing red, silver bars freshly pierced through the little nubs. Four of the fingers on her right hand crumpled at odd angles, each one having been broken in multiple places. I’d kept her hands bound so she’d been unable to splint them herself, and her wife had proved a broken little fuckdoll from the start so she wasn’t going to do it if I forbid her. Ugly purple welts dotted her thighs and flat belly, some accompanied by little scratches where the baseball bat I’d beaten her with had left splinters in her skin, and her pretty nose was smashed almost flat. Whenever she opened her mouth to suck in a breath the hollow sockets where her teeth used to be were on full display. It was hot… But do you know what the sexiest part of it was?

Her eyes.

There had been a fire in them before, a determination, a hatred. In fact, she looked almost like you do right now, Detective… she had that same glare. I love that fire. Do you know why? Because once it’s finally snuffed out, the empty, broken stare of a well-tamed slut can get me rock hard all on its own.

Laasya was far better off than her wife was, though not unscathed. She mostly did as she was told, but there were times I was forced to hurt her just to make a point. Her fat tits had taken the brunt of the damage, with long red scars criss-crossing the once pale flesh from when I’d found the cat of nine tails in their toy chest. She winced and flinched constantly, muscles sore from long nights bound tight in awkward positions, and would let out little whimpers of pain whenever her thighs rubbed together, a reminder of the day I had cut her clit off and force fed it to her wife.

“Well, ladies, our honeymoon is almost at an end,” I told them. They each knelt obediently in front of me, my cock drooping down before them. “Now how about one last blowjob for the road?” They exchanged tired glances with each other, but didn’t move nor answer. I think they expected I would kill them at the end of the day no matter what they did. And they were right about that, of course… but I couldn’t let them think that, so I clapped my hands together, drawing their attention with the sharpness in my voice. “Now! I’ll count to five, and if either one of you isn’t slobbering over my dick and balls, I’ll cut the other’s head off and stuff it up your cunt!”

Laasya, bless her, was the first to lean in. She buried her nose into the base of my sack with a tired moan and curled her tongue around one of my smooth balls. I smiled, placing one hand comfortingly on the back of her head and looking expectantly at Elena, who swayed slightly before following her wife’s lead. She sighed, pressing her soft lips to the stiffening head of my cock and circled the tip with her tongue, kissing and suckling while it grew into her mouth.

“Good girls,” I purred, watching them work with a warm smile. “You know, after all we’ve been through together, I think I’ve gotten attached.” They showed no sign of hearing me, focused entirely on their duty. I sighed, closing my eyes and listening to the quiet sounds of their lips and tongues caressing my member. It wasn’t very enthusiastic service, but in a way I found their reluctance arousing on its own. “I think I’ll visit you two again someday,” I lied. “Wouldn’t you like that? The two of you are just going to live your life in peace, hoping to never see my face again… and one day you’ll open your door and I’m there, waiting for you. What would you sluts do? Would you fight? Run? Or would you just drop to your knees like I never left and give me another blowjob, just… like… this…”

They faltered for a moment. Laasya allowed my balls to drop from her mouth, her cushy lips merely brushing against the underside of my shaft as she sucked in a small gasp. Elena, too, went still, her lips wrapped tight around my cock. I cracked my eyes open and peered down knowingly, meeting each of their gazes in turn, suddenly hopeful and alive in a way I hadn’t seen in days. Paradoxically, the promised dismal future was a hopeful one to them… it was a future in which they could live.

“Unless you give me some bullshit, pathetic blowie like this,” I said to them. “Then I guess there’d be nothing to look forward to, would there be?”

Their eyes widened. Elena suddenly straightened up, grabbing my shaft with one slender hand and swallowing half of my length in a single gulp. I groaned, my legs tensing, and a second later Laasya joined her, eagerly slobbering her tongue across the underside of my shaft and massaging my balls with her palm. Yes, they were motivated now… and I could understand why. I had never lied to them before, you see. They trusted me, in a perverse way. What the dumb sluts didn’t realize was that I’d been honest specifically, and only, so they would trust this one promise of mine. Have this one last hope to take away.

I placed one hand on each of their heads, but allowed them to service me at their own pace. They sucked cock well for a pair of seasoned dykes, taking turns swapping between my dick and balls, their lips buzzing with breathy moans and their hands slick with spit, working my shaft and massaging my sack. No part of me was left untouched for more than a second, my cock throbbing with the pleasure of their hungry tongues tracing my length and their lips wrapped around my tip. They sucked my balls into their mouths and caressed them with their tongues before letting them pop free with small gasps, swallowed my shaft deep into their throats, and even ran their hands up and down my firm abs, tickling my belly with their nails.

It was the best blowjob I’d ever had. They sucked me off better than twins could have —

Grant paused. “You know,” he said as he looked over at the two detectives, “I’ve always wanted a pair of twins… but I’ve been consistently disappointed. I’ve found a few pairs of hotties as I hunted around. A few of them even had a lesbian among them… but in neither case were they both. Such a let down. There would be no point in fucking twins if you didn’t get to complete the set, and I’m not going to lower my standards just for two girls that look the same.”

The rapist seemed perfectly relaxed as he shook his head in dismay. “Haven’t even found a pair of sisters like that… and not for lack of trying.” He grinned widely. “Don’t suppose the two of you know any, do you?”

“Stop stalling,” Isabella cursed. “Get on with it!”

Grant chuckled. “Fine, detective… if you’re that excited to hear the end, sure.”

I’m sure it’s not surprising that I reached my peak quickly with the pair of them lavishing me with their mouths. My grip on their heads tightened as my balls began to churn. I groaned and pulled them each off of my cock, grabbing Elena’s hand and using it to jerk myself off onto her face. She wanted to please me so badly she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, staring up at me with those watery, broken eyes.

My cum shot across her face in long, creamy strings as I pumped my hips, stretching out my orgasm. When I stepped back to examine her, she simply set her hands down on her legs and knelt in silence while my cum dripped down across her eyes and mouth.

I snorted, amused by her pitiful appearance. “Share with your wife.”

She turned slowly to Laasya, who looked back with a grimace. A man’s cum must have been disgusting to them, but they wanted to live, and so they wrapped their hands around each other’s faces and met in a tender kiss. They were hesitant at first, Laasya’s hands shaking as she scooped my seed up with her finger and brought it to her mouth, but gradually they grew more passionate, taking some comfort in each other’s lips even as their rapist’s cum drooled down onto their bruised tits.

“That’s enough.” I sighed, stretching my arms to either side, and going for my rope. “We did have fun, didn’t we girls? Alright… let’s get you tied up nice and tight, and then I’ll leave. I’m sure the cleaning staff will find you in a day or two.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Elena croaked. Her voice was hoarse. Scarred. It was wonderful.

They didn’t fight me as I began to work the rope. They knew better by then. I tied them together facing each other, with each of their heads leaning over the others shoulder and their arms and legs doubled up behind their backs. I pulled the ropes so tight that their tits were nearly flat, pressed painfully into each other’s bosoms and turning darker colors from the pressure. I’d raided their toy collection days ago, and they really had come prepared for a good time in bed… I had a lot to work with. It was trivial to push vibes into their cunts and seal them in with wide, bulging dildos. Their loose assholes were filled with buttplugs I slicked in their open mouths, and their mouths stuffed with a double-sided one… just short enough that they could still breathe easily enough. By the time I was done tying them, their holes were stuffed, neither could move, and neither had a prayer of pulling their head back far enough to ungag themselves on the dildo down their throat.

I think you’ll like this next part, Isabella.

They’d been planning to spend an entire week at this sleepy little beach house, and — rather cutely, I should add — had packed all their clothes for the trip in one massive trunk. It was mostly light summer wear and house clothes, with a few more elaborate outfits in case they decided to go out, but nonetheless the trunk was big enough to fit two lesbian cunts into.

Their eyes widened when I dragged it into the bedroom, and they began to struggle, but it was far too late. I squatted down and picked them up with a grunt of exertion, dropped them bodily into the trunk, and slammed the lid shut.

I could still just barely hear their muffled screams as I locked the lid, along with the buzzing of the vibes I’d buried deep in their sore pussies. The trunk was almost too big to fit into my car, but with some effort I managed to squeeze it in, along with a shovel from the tools shed. I opted to leave my radio off during the drive, listening to their soft, barely audible persistent screams instead. It wasn’t a long drive… I only took the car halfway up the dirt road back to civilization before stopping. We’d left the beach just far enough away that the soil here was dry but not too hard, and the shade of the trees made digging the six-foot-deep grave almost pleasant.

I sighed, wiping the sweat of labor from my brow as I dropped the shovel and dragged the trunk out into the dirt. The girls shrieked as it hit the ground, their voices raised in frantic begging. Perhaps they thought I was going to take them home with me, and keep them as pets for the rest of their lives. Honestly, Detective, it did cross my mind… but I’m not really a pet person. Not sure I’m responsible enough to be a good pet owner, either.

The trunk clattered loudly as I shoved it into the grave, the screams of its two occupants barely audible from above. I opened up the lid, and let them see the hole they were in. The panicked expressions on their faces didn’t fade as I pulled out my cock and took a piss right on top of them before closing the trunk back up, sealing it shut. Taking the shovel up once more, I began to pile dirt up on top of them, foot after foot, packing it in with smacks of the flat shovel head until there was nothing but smooth earth.

I bent down onto my knees and placed my ear against the dirt. To my satisfaction, I could still — only just — hear a muffled feminine wail from down there.

A few branches and plants placed on top of the grave served as camouflage to keep anyone driving past seeing obviously fresh dirt. I drove back to the beach house for a shower and a meal, then returned home refreshed from my lovely vacation.

To be honest with you detective, I don’t even remember exactly where I buried them.

Grant sat cuffed to the chair in silence, his head held high and his legs casually spread, still displaying the erection trapped in his pants. He met Isabella’s cold stare with a lopsided grin. Perhaps a minute passed in silence, broken only by the quiet ticking of the clock high on the wall. Finally, Isabella spoke. “Is that it?”

“Hm?” Grant arched his brow. “Is what it?”

“You’ve refused to shut up since we cuffed you to that chair,” Isabella said. “When did you learn that those two women’s bodies were found?”

“Bodies?” Grant pouted and cocked his head innocently. “Detective, there were no bodies. They were alive the last time I saw them.”

She glared at him flatly. “You locked them in a trunk and buried them alive.”

“Yes. Emphasis on alive.” Grant smiled at them. “I’m sure they got out.”

“Through rope, wood, and six feet of dirt?”

“Stranger things have happened,” he said casually. “You know, you want to prove me wrong… you could just go and check. I’ll tell you where the cabin was, and you can have someone dig around. I’m sure that if that chest is still down there with those sluts in it you’ll find it, right? Then you can prove me a liar about them being alive.”

Isabella slammed her first onto the table, clenching her jaw. The state hadn’t executed a prisoner in decades; based on precedent, they needed a rock solid case on three capital charges. Two first degree murder charges would only get him life in prison, even with the most vindictive judge. If she could just get him to confess to a third murder, give any sign that at least one of the married couple had died for sure by his hand, then the death sentence was on the table. As it was, though… he was leaving leeway. Refusing to confess to some elements. Giving details they couldn’t verify. Worthless.

“Fine.” Isabella shook her head and let her shoulders slump, hoping to entice him with an apparently defeated rival. “Tell us about your next victim.”

Grant snorted. “What other victims?”

Isabella stiffened. This bastard knew exactly what he was doing, didn’t he? “You mentioned others,” she said, trying to control her anger. “Don’t you want to tell me all about them?”

“Oh, those? I was just bragging. Nope, sorry, you know about all of them now.”

Grant’s sneer was almost overwhelming, and it left Isabella furious. “What’s the matter, scum? Afraid of getting a lethal injection?”

He was still smiling. She hated that smile. So warm, relaxed—she would even call him cute if she saw him out on the street. And he knew it. It was infuriating. “It’s late, detective… and I’m tired. Good luck trying to execute me with what you’ve got. I’ve enjoyed our conversation here.” He relaxed back into the chair and closed his eyes. “I expect I’ll be thinking about it for years in jail… stroking my cock as I think about you two in all those positions. I only hope you two had as much fun as I did.”

Again, the silence. Isabella waited for him to follow up, to try and taunt them, but he didn’t even open his eyes. It was like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of the interrogation room. She stood from her chair. “Hey. Hey! We’re not done here!”

No response. His chest swelled as he took a deep breath. Isabella’s hands curled into fists on the table. She went to walk around it, to grab him and shake more out of him, but was stopped by Zahira stepping in front of her.

“He’s not giving us anything else,” she said quietly. Her pretty brown eyes were still a little puffy, but her lips were set into a hard line. “We have enough to put him away for life as it is.” She turned to the camera in the corner and nodded, and a few seconds later the door opened, a pair of officers stepping into the cramped room.

They undid Grant’s cuffs, hauled him out of the chair, and resecured them once more. “We’ll get him processed, detective,” one of them said, dipping his head to Isabella and Zahira in turn. “Don’t worry. He ain’t getting away this time.”

They shoved Grant towards the door. He stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance, looking back and meeting Isabella’s glare. He gave her one last, cocky wink, and then the officers pushed him into the hall and out of sight, closing the door behind them.

Zahira and Isabella were alone.

Isabella sighed, slumping down against the wall and rubbing her face in her hands. “Fuck,” she breathed. “That was…”

“Yeah.” Zahira nodded, massaging her neck. “It’s hard to believe that people like that are real.”

“Life in prison seems too good for him,” Isabella said. She shook her head disdainfully. “He just wants attention, and he got it. He’s playing us like a fucking fiddle.”

Zahira didn’t answer at first. The silence stretched on for minutes, until finally Isabella looked up and saw the thoughtful look on her partner’s face. “Zahira?” she asked.

Her partner blinked, her eyes refocusing back on Isabella. “H-huh?”

“What’re you thinking? You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Just—” Zahira licked her lips, tugging anxiously at her ponytail of smooth, dark hair. “You’re right. Prison is too good for him. What if… what if he didn’t make it to prison?”

Isabella frowned. “What do you mean? That’s where he’s going, Zee. There’s no way he escapes. He’s a freak and a sadist, but he’s no magician.”

“No, no! I mean… what if we didn’t let him make it to prison?” Zahira stepped closer, grabbing Isabella’s shoulders and lowering her voice to a whisper. “What if… I don’t know, he tried to escape… and caught a bullet or twenty?”

Isabella’s eyes widened. She gasped, whispering back, “Zahira, you’re talking about murder!”

“Who gives a shit! It’s what he deserves, isn’t it?” Zahira hissed darkly. “You heard the shit he was saying, Bella. It’s just like you said, life in prison is too good for him!”

“That doesn’t mean we just kill him!”

“Why not? Why shouldn’t we?!” Zahira squeezed Isabella’s shoulders, nodding energetically as she talked through the idea. “It’d be easy, wouldn’t it? We can just say he resisted in transit and we had to shoot him. We would have been driving… no body cams, no one to argue… and you know no one is going to look too deep into it. Nobody’s gonna care if a serial rapist shows up dead, Bella. If we just bend the rules a little, we can make sure he never hurts anyone again!”

“But…” Isabella grimaced. It was tempting. It was damn tempting. She hated Grant more than anything, and the idea of his smug face paling in shock just before she put a bullet between his eyes had her reaching instinctively for her gun, rubbing the smooth metal with her thumb. “How would we even do it? There’s no way Captain Mendoza has us drive him.”

“Fuck Mendoza,” Zahira spat. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Look, we find out who’s doing the transit and we ask them ourselves. Bribe them if we have to. They get a few hours to relax and we get some alone time with that rapist prick.”

Isabella bit her lip. She wanted to say yes, but there was doubt in the back of her head. It seemed wrong… but then the image of Grant’s cocky grin flashed in her mind. All the sick shit he’d said just to get under her skin, how he’d made innocent women beg for their lives only to kill them in the most terrible ways.

She’d make him beg before she shot him.

“Fine.” Isabella nodded, straightening up and taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

There was a light drizzle falling as Isabella and Zahira stood in the lot outside a few hours later. Zahira was pacing nervously, her arms crossed under her breasts and her head swiveling side to side as she scanned the street.

“Relax, Zee,” Isabella said. She’d taken a position leaning against the brick wall, one hand resting on her holster. Though she’d been reluctant to agree to this plan, now that things were in motion she’d settled into her usual determination… Zahira, on the other hand, was practically bouncing off the walls in her anxiety.

“Look! There!” Zahira perked up, jerking her head. Isabella followed the motion and spotted the pair of officers escorting Grant out of the police department. Both his wrists and ankles were cuffed, forcing him to shuffle awkwardly as the officers brought him to a patrol car and pushed him into the backseat.

The door slammed shut, locking him inside. Rather than get into the car themselves, however, the two officers went straight back inside. One of them paused at the door, looking towards Isabella and Zahira and giving a short nod.

“Well, it’s in our hands now.” Isabella pushed off the wall, leading the way to the car with a determined stride. She looked into the tinted windows of the rear seat with a smirk as she approached the driver’s side door. She couldn’t see inside, but she knew Grant was in there, and she knew he could see her.

The key was left in the door. Isabella slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh, reaching up and adjusting the rear view mirror until she could see Grant’s surprised face.

“Detective?”

“Rapist.”

He blinked. “Might I ask what you’re doing here?”

“My job.” Isabella turned the key as Zahira sat beside her, the engine revving to life. “Now shut the fuck up.”

The drive passed quickly and in silence. Isabella kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, fingers tapping impatiently. She found herself glancing from mirror to mirror, jumping every time the radio crackled to life with some innocuous chatter. Had anyone noticed her absence, or the unexpected presence of the officers that were supposed to be in her place right now? Another patrol car passed from the opposite direction, its occupants giving her a wave and nod. She smiled stiffly in return, her knuckles tightening when Zahira reached over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze.

She was a good cop, wasn’t she? She did good work. She saved people. What she was doing right now, she was doing it to save people, and she was sure that if she asked any one of her co-workers they’d all agree that the bastard didn’t deserve a warm bed and three meals a day on the taxpayer’s dime. No one was going to look twice… So why was she so goddamn nervous?

The brakes squealed as the car rolled to a stop under an old bridge. They were in an older, poorer neighborhood, the sun already dipping towards the horizon. The big, expensive high-rises of downtown cast long shadows that plunged the rundown homes here into a premature night. Cops usually only came to this part of town in force… executing drug busts, rounding up any gangs that tried expanding into the wealthier neighborhoods, or just performing shows of force. “This will do. Get him out.” Isabella nodded to Zahira as she pushed the door open and walked around the patrol car’s hood. She pulled her gun from her holster, thumbing the rubberized grip before sighing and racking the slide back. Her heart was pounding now, but she knew this was the right thing to do.

“C’mon, asshole,” Isabella heard Zahira say. There was a masculine grunt and a few staggering steps, and Grant fell to his knees next to her, looking down at the hard rocks where the bridge’s foundation met the dirty river water.

“I see you’ve grown some balls, Detective.” Grant let out a low chuckle as he looked up at her with a lopsided grin. “I admit, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Isabella growled, whipping her pistol into the side of his face. He fell over with a groan, and she couldn’t help but smirk when she saw his dumb grin finally gone. “You don’t think I’m gonna do it, do you?” She squatted next to him, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head roughly off the cracked concrete. She pushed the gun up to his eye and cocked the hammer, the slight trembling of her hands stilling as the climactic moment drew closer. “I want you to beg me.”

He still had the gall to smirk up at her, damn him. She pistol-whipped him again. “Beg you miserable piece of shit!”

Grant looked up at him, anger in his voice as his eye bled where she hit it. “No, Isabella. You are the one who’ll be begging.”

A sharp prick in the small of her back was the only warning Isabella had before fifty thousand volts of electricity went coursing through her petite body. She cried out, muscles spasming, every limb going rigid as Grant rolled away from her gun barrel. There was an ear-piercing crack as her clenching finger pulled the trigger, a wild shot smacking into the ground and sending little shards of concrete splintering into the air.

Isabella knew what it felt like to be tazed from her training, but it was entirely different having it sprung on her unexpectedly. Her eyes watered and her teeth clenched together so hard her jaw hurt. She pissed herself, her cheeks reddening in shame as a dark patch soaked into her pants and a warm trickle ran down her leg. Her body refused to listen to her commands, each muscle undergoing rapid, painful contractions as she gasped for air.

It felt like an eternity before the current faded, leaving her to fall limply to the side with a quiet whimper. She landed on something soft, and looked up to see Zahira cradling her head in her lap, her soft, friendly-looking lips stretched into an energetic smile and her delicate fingers wrapped around a spent taser. She softly stroked the limp Isabella’s hair out of her face, and the detective blinked up at her partner, brow furrowing in confusion. “W-why?”

Grant stepped into view above her, rubbing the marks on his wrists where the cuffs had been. He was holding her gun in his hand, and he slowly knelt down and pressed it against Isabella’s forehead. She groaned, straining to get up and defend herself, but she was still weak from the taser. There was a click as Grant uncocked the pistol and drew it back, smiling down at her. “Why not?”

Then he brought it down hard across her head, and she fell back into darkness.

---

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