Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Frank Smith are chasing a pair of disguised bank robbers who turn out to be female, young and beautiful.
Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to see is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. (Music, dramatic jazz playing the theme of Dragnet)
This is the City. Los Angeles, California. I work here. I’m a cop.
It was Tuesday July 7th. It was hot in Los Angeles. We were working the daywatch on Robbery Division. I’m Sergeant Joe Friday. My partner is Frank Smith; the boss is Chief Detective Stadtbraun.
I was using a pencil sharpener at the wall next to a poster that said “It’s time to roll up your sleeve… GIVE BLOOD NOW!” in large red letters with a large drawing of a smiling man doing just that.
I went back to sit at my wooden office, on which rested some sheets of paper, a 1950-model black phone with a round dial, a few pencils, my fedora hat, a half-empty glass of water, and a half-burned cigarette resting on an ash tray. I was filing a report about some old lady who had been forging cheques.
Opposite me was a similar-looking desk with similar things on it, and there sat Officer Frank, my partner, wearing a navy blue jacket while mine was a dove grey flannel model. Both of us wore narrow black ties on the usual white shirt. Looking OK neat and nondescript as cops ought to.
We were tackling a most unusual case of serial robbers.
The L.A. Police Department just couldn’t get any lead. There were two of them; one wearing a Happy Mask, the other one donning a Sad Mask. Both wore a large black gown with their white masks.
According to witnesses, the Sad Mask always did the talking. He spoke with a disguised voice that ran a cold chill through their spine; they could tell he could shoot someone in cold blood. They weren’t tall nor large. They stood about 5’3 or 5’4 and were of a slim build. Maybe they’d been circus acrobats or something; a lady had said they moved very gracefully.
They would hit seemingly random locations, and didn’t only rob banks. Their two first hold-ups had been banks. But then they had hit a suburban restaurant called the Golden Pheasant on a very busy evening, and left with $750 in cash. This was a hefty sum, about a quarter of the average worker’s yearly wage, yet it hardly seemed to be worth risking one’s life for.
It looked like they were doing this for kicks more than money. Our job was to stop them!
The phone rang.
“L.A. Police Department, Sergeant Joe Friday, Robbery Detail! … … … Mhh mhh… Yeah… … All right! We’re on our way!”
I quickly hung up the phone, grabbed my hat and looked at my partner…
“Frank! The Sad and Happy masked robbers struck again! Hold-up at the bank on South Broadway, just north of 9th Street! A security guard was shot. He’s in the hospital in a very bad shape. If he pulls through he might give us important information!… Let’s go!”
Knowing the guard was in intensive care, we first drove to the bank, which was in a bustling part of town. An eye witness said that two masked men armed with revolvers had ordered everybody to stay put right where they stood and nobody would get hurt. They wore black gowns and white masks; a Happy Face and a Sad Face. Both were short with a slight build. They moved fast and very gracefully, like ballet dancers.
A security guard, after complying and throwing away his revolver, had tried to sneak up from the side. He had managed to grab the revolver-holding arm of one of the robbers and was about to take the gun from him, for he was a tall, active man, but the other one shot him in the belly from a close range, firing twice.
Then they quickly took cash money, around $1,200, from the terrified clerks and made good their escape using a grey Studebaker that had been parked right in front, no doubt a stolen car.
The witnesses couldn’t give us any more information. The stolen car had been found in a backstreet not far from the bank. It was a 1950 Studebaker registered to a Mr. Hughes Smith, reported stolen very recently.
At the hospital, the shot security guard was still in intensive care, fighting for his life. We could only pray for him and his family. We found his young wife in tears in the waiting room.
Next morning, we sat again in our City Hall office along with papers, a cigarette and a coffee.
“Something strikes me”, I said. “The witnesses all said these robbers were short men with a very slim build. They also said the security guard was easily overpowering the Happy Mask before the Sad Mask shot him. The more I think of it, the more I think that these robbers are women!”
“That would be odd!” replied Frank. “But the disguises they’re wearing and the way they operate are so unique that this wouldn’t surprise me, however odd this may be. I think, unless that bank guard comes around, we should go see that policeman who found the car and ask him some more questions.”
Officer Wallace was a tall, alert young man with a promising career ahead of him. I asked him if, by any chance, he had seen two young women walking side by side near the place he found the car. The graceful way the robbers moved had me thinking that they must be young women.
It was a very long shot. The robbery had occurred in a very busy part of town, in broad daylight with lots of people passing by. However, Officer Wallace had noticed two ladies, strikingly beautiful and dressed with style. Their gait indicated they were in very good physical condition. One of the two had become noticeably nervous upon seeing his police uniform; the other one had laid a hand on her shoulder and spoken to her. At the time, he had been on the look-out for male suspects and didn’t make much of it.
He said that both women were brunettes of average height and a slender, alluring figure; pale skin and lovely features too; aged in their mid-to-late twenties. They could have been movie actresses! That’s what he said, with an emphasis that was unlike his usual self.
We went to R&I and asked them to look for any record for a pair of female robbers working together. No leads there. We made sure no journalist learned of our suspicion about the robbers being female. It was essential to keep this one advantage we had on them; our only ace in our sleeve so far.
At the Los Angeles County General Hospital, the security guard had miraculously pulled through. We met him.
Steve Duncan was still very weak; we were only allowed a couple of minutes with him. Even in his feeble state, his handshake struck me as belonging to a heck of a strong man! He had been a rugby player before the war. Served with distinction in the Pacific. Then, after his discharge, he had been hired as a security guard at that bank and he had been working there for the last seven years. His young wife was pregnant with their second child.
He began by saying he was sorry for letting the robbers get away. They had made him drop his handgun and toss it in a deserted corner of the room, then stand quiet with his hands up. We told him that he was a very brave man to do what he did.
Steve Duncan was positive. The robbers were both women. When he had grabbed the Happy Mask, he had heard a subtle high-pitched whimper and as he grappled with her, he had been shocked at how easily he was prevailing; then the Sad Mask had whispered “It’s OK Amy!” and she fired twice with a .38 S&W snub nose Special.
We told him to keep this information in strict confidence. For the first time, we were no longer in the dark, albeit we didn’t have much.
Their next hit came three weeks later; it was a large coffee shop on 6th Street West. We called all police cars available to move in and be on the look-out for two strikingly beautiful brunettes, dressed with style and walking just between themselves, one of whom would be named Amy, Amanda, Amelia or Amelie. We were looking for a needle in a haystack!
Soon, the neighborhood was teeming with policemen patrolling on foot and watching all passersby.
Two ladies were spotted. They were interrogated on the sidewalk and proved quite cooperative. One of them was named Amelie Portman, a Jewish. They were taken downtown for further interrogation. When asked about the bank robbery and the shooting of the guard, they said that three weeks before, they had been visiting relatives in Colorado.
We checked their story and called their relatives in Colorado. We also checked with their husbands’ employers and everything rang true. We released the two young housewives, whose husbands were positively furious when they came. They calmed down when we told them about the guard who had nearly lost his life.
There were two millions of people in Los Angeles. It was easy enough for two young women to take the bus and vanish. They could even boldly enter a small restaurant nearby and quietly eat while watching the police cars zooming by and laughing between them as we were looking for them all over the city like busy bees.
Given the way they operated, it was impossible to know when and where they would strike next. Unless we got lucky, they would always elude us. And then another bank guard, or an innocent citizen, would get shot… We had to stop them!
One morning in late August, a traffic officer turned up in our office. He had a very interesting story to share with us.
Officer Bill Talbot was friends with a landlord who often rented rooms to female tenants. The prettiest ones were usually welcomed for a surprisingly low rent.
Last July, this charitable friend had rented a room to a pair of strikingly beautiful women, both with dark hair. Since they had good looks and offered two months right away as down payment, he had accepted their cash money without asking questions.
The landlord spoke a lot of them. Their names were Betty and Amy. They were very quiet in their ways and were good tenants. They looked lovely indeed; Officer Talbot had seen them himself from a distance. However, something had struck him when his friend told him that Betty had dyed her hair blonde very recently.
He was surprised, for he had previously overheard a conversation between the two women and a housewife walking her dog on the sidewalk; Betty and Amy had told her that their black hair was their utmost pride! Why then would Betty suddenly want to dye her hair? There was just something that didn’t add up.
What’s more, the landlord had heard them arguing about this very subject. Betty had been admonishing Amy for refusing to dye her own hair, telling her that “she needed to go blonde, or else things would get too risky”.
Officer Talbot gave the address and I jotted it down on a paper. Odin Street.
“I think this is it! They’re our men, I mean our gals,” I told Frank after Officer Talbot left. Frank grinned at my slip of the tongue. He looked at me in a way that told me he knew that I knew what he was thinking of.
The lady robbers no doubt remembered having been spotted by a police officer shortly after they had abandoned the grey Studebaker; they wanted to change looks.
We drove to that address right away, along with a marked police cruiser for back-up. We told the two officers to park far enough and stay out of sight until we called them.
The place was located in a beautiful residential neighborhood on Odin Street, a wide avenue lined with lush majestic trees.
When we came, the landlord was off to work and none of the suspects was home. We spoke with the landlord’s wife, who basically repeated Officer Talbot’s story, except she sounded jealous of the two beauties.
Then we got out of the landlord’s house and took our watch in front of the women’s door. It was a long watch. The back-up police car was relieved. Then, about 7 P.M., as the light was waning into dusk, Frank started and said…
“Hey Joe! Here they come…”
A Ford Sedan of a recent year, I’d say 1951, pulled in on Odin Street and then turned and stopped in the front alley. Two very attractive women—one blonde who was driving, the other one a brunette—stepped out of the car and walked into their lodgings; they walked like angels.
We immediately got out of our unmarked car and I knocked on their door.
The blonde answered with a cold, haughty air about her, yet with the face of an angel… She had a peculiarly husky voice.
“Yes. What do you want? If you’re salesmen, we’re not interested. Goodbye!”
I stopped her from closing the door on us and showed her my police badge.
“I’m Sergeant Joe Friday from L.A. Police Department, and this is my Officer Frank Smith my partner. We have a few questions to ask you. Can we come in? … Thank you M’am!”
Both looked strikingly beautiful indeed!
Betty, the one who had dyed her hair blonde, looked like actress Lizabeth Scott, a golden-haired femme fatale with an alluring, pin-up-like figure. She presently wore a plaid dress, with black and orange diagonal lines on a canary-yellow fabric, a stylish dress jazzed up with a neat white collar, along with a narrow and sleek black belt underscoring her trim waist and feminine figure. Her figure and demeanour did make me feel a bit like a blue-collar copper in front of a white-collar lady.
Amy had kept her natural dark color with straight hair, neat bangs and an even neater bun in the back of her head; her last-decade hairstyle beautifully underscored the slenderness of her soft-looking face; she had a perfect mouth shape, a perfect lipstick shade, an ideal nose shape and brown eyes to die for. Her black dress wonderfully highlighted the artistic whiteness of her complexion. Her delicate hands told me she must have very arousing feet, number five shoes at the most.
We began asking them routine questions. Their answers were rather elusive, yet not illogical and in fact, their stories made sense but were impossible to verify.
At one point, I suddenly looked at the brunette, whom I knew was Amy, and I plunged my iron-cold gaze into her eyes…
“Amy, the security guard that your partner shot is still alive! And he said YOU are women!”
Amy looked at me with a gaping mouth; her face turned ghastly white.
“But you shot him point-blank! Didn’t you Betty? … HHHsorry…”
Amy hissed and put her hand on her mouth as she realized—too late—that she had done a gigantic blunder.
Betty had reacted fast! Frank was supposed to be watching her, but he’d later confess that he had been looking at Betty’s lower legs a little bit too much for our safety.
Betty had her revolver out and trained on us before we could do anything.
“HANDS UP, COPPERS! All right! Now, drop your weapons, slowly. Don’t try anything funny… All right, good boys! Now step back and stand there with your back against the wall… That’s it. Good boys! Stay there!”
“You stupid fool!” she said to Amy before ordering her to get to the car and look if the coast was clear.
“You won’t get far!” I said. “The station got your car’s licence number. As soon as they don’t hear from us, they’re going to zero in on your location and hunt you down! This man you shot in the bank isn’t dead; don’t make it a murder case! You better turn yourself in!”
“Shut up, copper!” Betty snarled. “Come on Amy! Go to the car! I’ll be right behind you!” she added.
As Amy went out, Betty ordered us to turn around. I felt a chill of fear running down my spine. What if she shot us down like dogs? But then I was struck on the head.
I was groggy, down on my knees with a sharp pain in the back of my head, when I heard their car engine as it died in the distance. Frank helped me back to my feet.
We ran to our unmarked car and called the back-up cruiser and all other units as we quickly drove off after them. We had seen them turning westward and knew they didn’t have that much of a lead. Betty didn’t strike us hard enough with her revolver.
“Car 7-14 by! This is Sergeant Friday calling all units! Our 10-20 is house number 74 on Odin Street. The two suspects got away in their car and are heading West; it’s a Ford Sedan 1951, all black with no white walls on tires, licence plate number 3, Uniform, 3, 7, 4, 6, 7. I repeat… Ford Sedan 1951, black, plate number is 3, Uniform, 3, 7, 4, 6, 7. We’re giving chase and request assistance from all available units! 10-4!”
The chase was on. They were heading West, driving fast on the narrow, winding streets. Out in the distance. we saw their tail lights in the evening dusk. They took Camrose Drive, then we were after them on Hillcrest Road, all the way to Franklin Avenue, where they turned West. They were expertly negociating all those twists and bends and turns, but our modified Police Mercury 1953 model had a more powerful engine and a better suspension. We were slowly gaining on them.
They must have been aware of that, because they didn’t keep going straight on Franklin Avenue. They suddenly turned north on Outpost Drive, then they drove straight north with all the speed they had. Frank was relaying our position constantly, so we knew several cruisers were close behind us.
They were trying to lose us in that maze of trails up there in Hollywood Hills, but they were taking the risk of running into a dead-end. Unfortunately for them, I had walked throughout these parts when I was a little boy. These twisting trails had no secrets for me.
They eventually made their mistake. I smiled.
I slowed down, knowing they had driven into a dead-end. We had them cornered!
As I drove closer and saw them stepping out the door, their heads moving in panic, I grinned. It was even better than I had thought. There was a high chain link wall that wasn’t there back in the early 1930’s when I was a 12-year-old kid.
One side of the trail was overlooked by a nearly vertical cliff that only an athletic climber could do; on the other side was a steep descending slope where bushes were extremely thick, with rattlesnake nests where no one with a sane mind would want to go. This terrain wasn’t exactly friendly to fleeing women in heel shoes.
Beyond the chain-link wall was a jagged hillside with huge boulders; they couldn’t drive through that. They were screwed all right!
We saw many headlights behind us, quickly getting closer. Police cars were zeroing in on us. Indeed, unless our ladies did something crazy, our hunt had come to a successful end.
I felt a growing erection as I stopped the car and watched both our lovely suspects step out of their black Ford in our white headlights. They both kicked off their shoes… Were they really considering running through that rattlesnake-infested slope? I wish they weren’t, as I didn’t exactly feel like pursuing them down there. The bushes and the “down there” I had in mind for them were of a more pleasing kind.
They were caught in the middle of nowhere, alone, and we had some leeway time here. I knew my partner well enough to understand he felt pretty much the same way even though he was married with two kids; we had joined the police force the same year. We had done this a couple of times before, but never with women this beautiful!
We stepped out of our car and crouched behind the doors. They were 20 yards away and our headlights made them perfectly visible to us while hiding us to them. I ordered them to surrender…
“ALL RIGHT! DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND STAND WITH YOUR BACK AGAINST THAT CHAIN WALL WITH YOUR HANDS UP WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM! DO IT NOW OR WE’LL OPEN FIRE!”
Amy threw her purse down with her trembling hands, which were nonetheless lovely to look at. Betty was holding her revolver; she was measuring the odds. She hesitated, looked at the steep bushy slope to her left, looked down at her stockinged feet as she stood on the gravel trail, then looked toward us. Finally, she dropped down her .38 snub nose on the dirt, where it landed with a subtle thud.
Behind us, several black Mercury police cars came to a halt. We heard the dark-uniformed officers opening and slamming shut the white doors as they stepped out.
“Good God! These two gals are really classy chassis!” one of the young officers commented.
“ALL RIGHT! BACK AGAINST THE WALL! BOTH OF YOU, LADIES!” I barked.
As our lovely captives stepped back to obey my command, I called the dispatch…
“Dispatch, 7-14 by! Both suspects are running away by foot in difficult terrain, but we got them cornered. No need for further back-up. We’ll soon have them in custody. 10-4!”
Frank saw me grinning. He grinned back.
“If you don’t mind, Frank, I’ll have the brunette and you take the other one! You know how much I love brunettes! Don’t tell Ann!” I told my partner while loosening my tie knot.
“Doesn’t make much difference, Joe; they’re both brunettes down there! Don’t tell my wife!”
“Yep! You’re right on that count,” I replied as we approached the increasingly terrified women.
Amy and Betty suddenly realized our intent when we were right at them. When it was too late to run.
Watching Betty’s haughty, confident gaze instantly morphing into the panicked stare of a hopelessly terrified girl was priceless!
Frank grabbed her small wrists, pushed her back against the chain wall and forced a rough kiss on her! She spat in his face, anger hardening her features in a flash; then Frank slapped her hard and she yelped and began bawling. Not so haughty now!
I myself grabbed Amy, who stared back at me frozen in terrified silence. Her dark eyes were life-altering to look into. I forced kissed her and began to “search” her for hidden weapons.
“Don’t forget to search her thoroughly, Frank!” I said in a half-amused tone.
“You bet I won’t!” he replied laughing. Then I heard him speaking to Betty as she kept bawling and begged him to let her go, telling him he had no right to do this…
“All right, Milady! Let’s see what you’re hiding beneath those fancy clothes!”
Several police officers in uniform joined us. We became a wild pack pressing ourselves on our lovely captives. Frank began ripping Betty’s dress off while two police officers held the screaming woman’s arms.
In a flash, her top was roughly torn wide open before Frank grabbed her white bra and yanked it off with a loud, satisfied grunt! Her perky milk jugs were suddenly right there with neat nipples, just matter-of-factly there and jiggling along with her panicking struggles, her beauty shown in free display, both crude and sensual in one flash.
I took the time to watch Betty’s sensual breasts while keeping my firm hold on Amy’s delicate wrists, easily overpowering her while she clenched her little fists in her powerless cries of distress. Seeing Betty’s dress torn wide open and showing her bare chest was incredibly satisfying after being hit by the butt of her gun. My head was still hurting, but now I was seriously loaded down there from seeing her pride being destroyed.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! YOU HAVE NO RII-IIGHT!!! STOP THIS!”
Betty protested with her husky voice while her breasts jiggled on in her wide-gaping dress top as she struggled amid her grinning captors, her milky-white flesh brightened by our cruisers’ headlights against the evening’s growing darkness.
Then I savagely turned on Amy! Police officers restrained her wriggling limbs as I violently pulled her black dress right down her shoulders and arms, mercilessly taking her bra along with it and instantly making her topless with her arms pinned against her alluring flanks.
Her pin-up worthy breasts looked back at me with their inviting nipples, pushed out by her panting chest and moving with feminine grace, in some sort of primal dance as Amy wriggled and tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.
I engulfed one of her pale tits in my mouth and treated myself with this fleshy raspberry, sensing the woman’s wild panic as I tasted her salty-girly sweat under my tongue while enjoying her perfume! This was going to be good! I wanted to cup the other one, but the policeman holding her on that side beat me to it.
Near me, at my right, Betty was screaming her life out. From the corner of my eye, I saw that Frank had roughly tucked her dress all the way up and was forcefully inserting his manhood inside her while the two uniformed officers restraining her arms grinned and jeered at her! She was having it! And so was Amy!
Betty was screaming at the top of her voice, sounding as if she were getting tortured inside her using a red-hot poker while being burned in the eyes using a cigarette. Her voice was no longer calm and husky.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH NAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO aaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh…”
“You deserve this! You almost killed that bank guard! HHHNN! HNN! O gee! She’s a good one! Hrrr…” Frank replied as he violated her.
I had the officers bending Amy over while I kept pulling her dress further and further down, undressing her hips, then tearing off her panties to get my first look at her gorgeous butt! Her two moons of pale flesh almost blinded us! I was hard for real this time, like a hickory stick.
“A really classy chassis, like I said!” repeated the same officer who had passed that remark.
Not bothering to undress her Eve-naked and finding that her black stockings perfectly intensified the forbidden whiteness of her skin, I unzipped my wool pants, quickly spat on my raging erection and then I took my prize! Time to play some suburban bingo!
Almost unaware of Betty who shrieked on next to me as she was being raped by Frank, I forcefully pushed inside Amy, who was now quietly sobbing between the pair of jeering officers holding her arms. One of the policemen had his erection out of his pants and was using it to gently smack her face and she looked away.
I blissfully entered her tight vagina, all the way! Then I grabbed her milky curves and watched her perfectly shaped butt, as I began smacking it against me and started to pound her, in a standing doggystyle session that proved more and more intense and pleasing with each rough stroke I gave. I was no longer myself.
As I raped Amy, I thought of Ann and her morality, she expecting me to wait until we’d get married while I was already a grown man! I wanted to give her the hot thrill and take her just like I was doing Amy, but no, she wouldn’t hear of it! Not until we’d say “I do”. Tough break!
It was amazing! Before long, I got past the point of no return, enjoying the unstoppable surge of extreme delight! It was miles ahead of when I masturbated thinking of Ann.
I exploded. Yes! Like the bomb on Hiroshima! Like that test bomb near Bikini Island.
Losing my fedora hat in the process, I frantically pounded Amy with all I had left while I let out a long-sustained groan and blissfully shot my bolts of thick, steaming jism inside Amy! Filling her up good and proper as she wailed and whimpered, shedding all her tears while I emptied my ammo inside the brunette with my hands directly on her soft buttocks!
Oh God! It was amazing! Strictly off the record.
“Let’s go Harry! You’ll see, she’s very tight and enjoyable!” I said to the more senior officer holding Amy, before taking his place and holding Amy’s right arm, and cupping one of her milk jugs while Officer Harry unzipped his uniform pants and took his turn behind and inside Amy, who kept quietly whimpering and sobbing under the barrage of thrusts the married cop rocked her body under.
I had shot my load just in time to watch Frank consummating Betty’s rape.
Grunting loud like a rutting babboon, my partner was firmly holding her black-stockinged thighs while slamming her with unrestrained abandon as she kept screaming and bawling, her blonde head wildly bobbing in front of his triumphant gaze and her back against the human wall formed by the two burly officers restraining her arms and basically holding most of her while Frank kept stuffing her.
Her tiny hands looked like lost beacons of pale lady’s skin amid their mass of darkness. Her stockinged feet were an absolute beauty to watch as her legs brushed against Frank’s sides as she kept hollering and telling us she had rights even though she was being arrested for a felony.
Her husky voice only added to our excitement.
Then Frank unloaded his ammo inside Betty! It was priceless! He filled her up while sounding like a dying animal…
“NNNNNNNNNNNHHHRRRRR YYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Ooaaaahhhhh… Thank you, Ma’am! So kind of you to let us act like gentlemen!”
We all felt how amazingly strong he had cummed. Raping these two lady bandits was so much fun!
Then Harry let out a similar scream of carnal relief as he shot his bolts inside Amy and made good his well-sustained efforts. He claimed an intangible bonus for the arrest. We all did or were about to.
The next officer who took her upped the ante and had her screaming loud in searing pain as he began raping Amy’s ass.
He was overweight in his early forties. This rape was gross and beastly; he stood there, pumping his cock inside Amy’s asshole with frothing saliva dripping from his pleasure-gaping mouth until he shot a powerful load, half of which splattered Amy’s lovely butt as he exited her shithole. Her female-vast buttocks looked surreal in that predicament. Such an elegant lady to be debased in such a gross way.
In the meantime, the pair of burly officers had laid Betty down on the ground. One held her girly arms down left and right of her head while his mate finished undressing her with feverish violence. He pulled all her garments toward him, swiftly uncovering the alluring whiteness of her stretched legs as he pulled! All came off, stockings and all… Her bare feet lit a wild fire in me. I had to have her!
I contemplated the contrasting blackness of her cunt hair, which formed a neat triangle between her legs. The very best place to be for a man.
Her brunette’s cunt disappeared, hidden under the policeman’s naked butt as he dropped his uniform pants and began mounting her, kneeling and powerfully holding her hips clean off the ground and rocking her smaller body as she unwillingly received his hipthrusts!
He raped her very forcefully, like some angry pirate on the deck of a merchant ship in the aftermath of a hard-fought boarding, making her bosom move as it never did before as her head bobbed lower than her boobs on that suburban ground, near that chainlink fence, near her stopped Forced Sedan, all frozen in time with its doors open.
Fate was having this femme fatale gang-raped upon her arrest. She wasn’t the first nor the last one to be used like this.
“I should have shot at you, filthy coppers!” she barked amid the head-bobbing tumult of her brutal rape, her blonde dyed hair now a mess in those headlights. Her fiery mouth blew more hot air…
“I should have fought and get shot! I’d… I’d rather die than… AAAAAAAAAAAAH AAAAA aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… NAAAA-AAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAA aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you had no right to do th, this…”
Watching Betty’s breasts jiggle and riding so high on her upper chest was priceless! The strong man just kept her half-upside down as he raped her hard and good while holding her hips clean off the ground. All her hollering and crying wasn’t going to make her case easier. She was getting it good, long and rough!
“Don’t worry, Betty! If you behave and act like a good girl, we’ll put in a good word for you and who knows, you might get off with a lighter sentence,” I jested, grinning like I seldom do.
I remembered how haughty she had been to us upon answering the door, thinking we were salesmen… Now she was down on the dirt, her arms pinned on either side of her bobbing head, her hair no longer styled, but a dirty mess as she was shaken nonstop under the overwhelming force of a police-inflicted gang-rape! Good for her!
The officer groaned loud and long as he emptied his balls inside Betty. I loved her wail of anger as she was also moaning, her body clearly acting on its own. Her husky voice was now broken thanks to all her yelling and screaming under the evening sky.
Then the men switched positions and Betty’s breast-jiggling ordeal began anew while two more officers waited for their turn while masturbating. It was a lovely night to be in Los Angeles.
A few paces away, Amy was now naked and down on all fours while taking hard punishment from the next-in-line police officer. This one had chosen her pussy; she was quietly whimpering and sobbing as she endured this comparatively lighter pounding.
She even moaned amid her sobs, reacting to forced sensations from her violated womanhood.
“Yeah, yeah… The broad’s liking it! She’s a good whore in training! HA! HA! HA! HA!” The policemen kept jeering as they gang-raped her.
Once each and every policeman in the party had got off one full load inside them, Betty and Amy were both forced to take cocks in her mouth, and soon enough, they had cum splattered on their pretty face with the promise of a lighter sentence from good behavior.
I watched with priceless satisfaction as Betty was forced to kneel down, Eve-nude with such lovely legs and feet, and she underwent this same form of humiliation! She was so beautiful when a police cock filled her mouth and its fist deformed her cheek as she was forced to “smoke the cigar” for our boys.
They held her jaw in a hard pinch so she couldn’t bite with much force, yet she was terrified. I could tell from the look in her eyes. I felt sorry for her at that point, and a bit guilty too. It was wrong to draw fun out of the suffering of those poor women. And yet, it was so much fun to act like this! Off the record.
We spent the next two hours using the two lady bandits as sex slaves. I myself took my turn inside Betty, looking straight into her eyes the whole time I spent on top of her, pressing her breasts under my hands and making her scream in pain. Dominating this haughty femme fatale was beyond words! When I cummed, it proved even more intense than Amy!
It felt like the full gallon of my frustration with Ann all came out of me. All at once! So liberating! And I knew all I had to do if I wanted to enjoy Ann after our next date was simply to be more persuasive and make her feel wanted. Just like I just did with those two wanted bandits.
I was no longer the toy of a badly written script. I was in control. I was going to see Ann naked and hear her whimpers when I’d take her bent over and make her pretty face slide on my desk after hours. Ann was just as gorgeous as those ladies. I was sure of it. I was a lucky cop.
Epilogue
On September 12th, trial was held in Department 89, Superior Court of the State of California, in and for the County of Los Angeles. In a moment, the results of that trial. The suspects were trialed and both found guilty of armed robbery. The suspect nicknamed Betty was also found guilty of attempted murder on the person of Steve Duncan, security guard at the Broadway California Bank. AMELIE “AMY” ROSENBERG & ELIZABETH “BETTY” COOPER—Now serving their terms in the California Institution for Women, Corona, California.
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