They’ve got company.
The other parts of this story can be found here.
I whirled around from where I had been leaning against his car, pulling the top and the skirt down as far as each would go. My eyes felt too wide, showing too much white, as my heart hammered in my chest, standing there in the spill of the lights from the squad car. I stole a glance at Damian, whose expression looked wooden as he watched the officer set out of his car.
My breath was caught in my throat. My lungs refused to inflate.
And still, underneath it all, I wondered if he had seen me readjust my top and skirt.
What was wrong with me?
That is not what I should be worried about, at this moment. Still, the desire to be punished for breaking his rules was undeniable, a slippery drip of need in the back of my brain, as I watched the police officer walk toward us.
“Evening, folks.” The officer’s voice had an unmistakable air of authority, like a man who’d had a badge long enough to know that he would be obeyed. In the light spilling from the trunk, he was well-built, with broad shoulders and muscles that strained against the short sleeves of his uniform. He stood with a precision that spoke of many years of training. His hair might have been dark, but it was cut so short that in the low light, it was impossible to tell.
His eyes bore into us, and it made me want to squirm. I looked down at my chest, sure I would be able to see my sternum heaving above my wild heartbeat.
“Officer.” Damian’s tone was clipped. “How can we help you?”
I watched the officer’s eyes roam over my body, sending a wave of hot humiliation skittering over my skin.
I knew what he must be thinking, and yet I couldn’t make my brain finish the thought.
This was so stupid.
He was going to think… fuck. I wanted to hang my head and cry.
“Saw your lights from the road. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” The way he said it, left the definite impression that he was not just here to make sure everything was okay. Again, his gaze raked over my body, settling hungrily on my half-exposed tits. “Imagine my surprise when I find… this, instead.”
A perverse part of me wanted him to say it. Wanted to hear the words on his tongue. My chest ached, for that judgment.
Damian shifted his stance. “We’re fine here, thanks.” His tone made it clear that the other man’s continued presence was not welcome.
A ghost of a smile crawled across the officer’s face, and it made me shiver. “Surely I don’t need to tell you that solicitation is illegal.”
Solicitation. A needy murmur escaped my lips, and I stared at the ground. Solicitation.
Fuck. My cunt convulsed at the word.
“I’m not soliciting anything,” Damian replied, his voice icy. Then, turning to me, he added, “I haven’t paid you anything, have I?”
Somehow, that made it worse. I was lower than a streetwalker, in his mind. He didn’t even have to pay me.
Fucking slut.
Humiliation burned on my cheeks, and my voice came out barely a whisper. “No, Sir.” I dared to raise my eyes to his, and they were hard, dangerous. “I’m not… a hooker, Sir.”
I watched the lines of Damian’s jaw twitch, and I realized that at least a little part of him was enjoying my humiliation.
As long as we don’t both end up arrested.
I watched his lips curl into a cruel smile, and it made me want to make it worse. The inside of my thighs were slick with my own juices, and all I wanted to do was make it worse. I wanted to watch him revel in my degradation.
Distantly, I wondered if I had always been this self-destructive.
It didn’t matter. My chest felt cavernous as I said the next words. “You don’t have to pay me.”
“And why is that?” Damian said, much too casually for the situation.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “Because… because I’m just a needy slut.” I shifted, and I felt my top inch upward. My breathing came fast and shallow as I tried not to move, not to flash my tits to the police officer standing in front of us.
Not a prostitute. Just a needy little slut.
“Obviously.” Damian’s voice slid down the curve of my spine. “What do you need?”
I hung my head, and that tiny movement made the top ride up over my breasts, revealing my hard little nipples to each man’s eyes. “Please don’t… Fuck, please don’t make me say it,” I begged, my internal conflict raging.
I didn’t know if I wanted him to keep pushing, or stop. I just didn’t know. He made me question everything.
Was I always this self-destructive?
“Say it, doll,” Damian said, his voice almost too lyrical for what I was about to do. “Tell us what you need, sweetheart.”
No, I wanted to scream. No, no, no.
The words fell from my lips, obedience was a compulsion, overwhelming my sense of self-preservation. “I need to be covered with cum. I need my face to be covered with men’s cum.”
Those sentences floated in the humid air between the three of us, and I shivered, despite the heat. They hung there, waiting.
The officer took a step toward me, and I took a step back, so I was pinned against the car. I don’t think there was any real threat in his stance, but it was a heady feeling to realize just how powerless I wanted to be, in this situation. Deliciously helpless.
I did need it. I needed their cum on my face. Needed it like I needed air. I needed to be the filthy cum slut I’ve always dreamed of being.
The officer invaded my space, standing too close than was necessary. He brought one hand up to run a finger underneath the leather collar around my neck, and he smiled at me. It was not a friendly smile. “I have enough to arrest you both, you know. Just on suspicion. Someone’s got to keep the streets safe from…” He seemed to be searching for the right word. “…. Degeneracy.” He tugged on my collar, bringing my face close to his. “I don’t know what fucking game you two are playing at, but I don’t think you want to spend a night in a jail cell, do you?”
Damian took a step toward us, as I shook my head. “No, Sir.”
He let me go, and took out a small writing pad from his back pocket, flipping to a clean page.
Taking a pen from his pocket, he continued, as if none of this was unusual in any way. “Now, say it again, for the record.” He looked at me, poised to write.
I realized my eyes had widened to the point of pain, and I fought myself not to touch this fucking top. My nipples were achingly hard.
For the record.
Deep, burning humiliation clawed through my body, so visceral that physical pain was real.
“Get on your knees, and say it,” Damian said. “Get on your knees and tell the officer the truth.”
I looked at him, horrified. I wanted to fight, to argue. To beg him not to make me do this. But most of all, I wanted to feel those claws dig themselves deeper, to feel the barbs sinking into my psyche.
I sank to my knees, hissing as the sharp gravel once again dug into my skin. I was inches from the officer’s crotch, and even in the dim light, I could see the outline of the bulge of his cock. It took more willpower than I was comfortable with, not to rub my cheek against it.
My mind was fuzzy with my own need.
“Please cum on my face,” I said, my voice low and desperate. “I need to be covered with cum, I need to feel it dripping down my skin, in my eyes and over my lips. Please, Sir. Please use me.” I paused, both hating and loving every syllable that tumbled from my mouth. “I’m just a needy cum slut.”
The officer reached out and ran a hand through my hair, the promise of violence thrumming from his grip. A moan escaped my throat, as I thought about those fingers holding me still, making me look up at him, as he covered my face in his cum. Covering the dried remnants of Damian’s spunk from earlier. I ached, for need of it.
He flipped his notebook closed and put it back in his pocket. I watched him turn his head toward the other man, and some kind of silent understanding seemed to pass between them. An understanding that I no longer had a choice.
I heard the flick of a lighter, and Damian made the end of a cigarette glow in the darkness. He leaned against his car, watching us as the smoke trailed from between his lips. “She’s just a desperate little cock slut, officer, she’s said so herself. Go ahead and use her, she won’t say no.”
The officer’s fingers tightened against my scalp, and my body quivered.
Self–destructive.
Stupid.
Dumb, naive little slut.
I wondered if I should safeword. Did I want this to stop?
The weight of true degradation settled into my bones, mixing with the pain of the rocks under my knees and the embarrassment of my exposed tits. I was conscious of every breath, every beat of my heart. Time trickled into the future, and with each passing second, the ache for more humiliation deepened. I felt a drop of liquid slip down my thigh.
I didn’t want this to stop.
“Take out my cock, slut.” The police officer’s voice was lower, having dropped by degrees, evidence of his own mounting need. “Take it out and show me what you’re good for.”
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