Busty Blonde Cassandra

Cassandra awoke with a jerk on the steel interrogation table, rolling over onto her back. Her ass still pulsed with pain from the Captain's intense spanking; she was sure that it was redder than a baboon's. Fresh memories of last night's ride in the police van swirled at the forefront of her tired brain. Cass rubbed her chafed wrists, shivered, then shook her head to dissipate the unpleasant, intrusive thoughts.

"I watched Officer Bruski's body cam footage," a woman's raspy voice surprised her, "you know, from when he found you and your fugitive fuck-mate in the marital bedroom?" Cass lurched upright to see Captain Demarco sniggering between sips of coffee. "The boys here at the station are gonna love it. Maybe I'll send it out to every cop in the state." She took another sip of steaming black coffee as Cassandra tried to collect herself. "I could send it out to 'em later today and tell 'em we need their help catching this long dong negro and big boobed bimbo." She sneered and took another drink. "Eyes peeled, dicks in hand, they'd be on the lookout for your sleazy slit 'til Christmas. Cuff ya and fuck ya every time they see ya," she chuckled.

"What? What are you talking about?" Cass furrowed her brow, agitated.

"Well, I guess it depends. If you play nice, maybe I'll let you go home to your fat, loser husband today. And if you're REALLY nice, maybe I won't start that statewide manhunt for your cunt." The Captain audibly sipped more coffee with a sadistic smirk.

"Please, just... just let me go home," Cass pleaded, exhausted.

"If you disobey, I just might let you run out of here like a rabbit so I can request a warrant for your arrest, then set my boys on you like a pack of hounds. Wherever you go, they'll find you and see to it that you are thoroughly and righteously punished." She paused. "But... if you play by my rules, you just might be back out there walking the streets before your pimp comes calling. For now... you just hold tight," she smiled, "... loose slut."

After Captain Demarco left the room, Cassandra made her way to a chair and straightened out her bikini as well as she could in a vain attempt to make herself decent. The chill of the cold room remained in her bones, leaving her to shiver alone with her darkest thoughts for the better part of an hour. Her heart sank into despair. It seemed she had no choice but total surrender.

That nasty Demarco dyke is angry because I'm hot and she's not, Cass thought with a sudden spark of indignation. She's exactly what's wrong with the police, getting a badge and a gun so she can take revenge on people who remind her that she was a lonely loser in high school.

Vain ideas of vengeance came to Cassandra's mind, but permeating all of them was the haunting pain and humiliation of yesterday. The shivering bikini bimbo's brain flashed with the smell and feel of that piggish cop's cum filling her nose while the other one thrashed her poor pink pussy with his nightstick.

"FUCK, my CUNT HURTS," she cried out to the empty room, attempting to scare the sickening thoughts away. The busty blonde feared she would never forget her ride in the police van the night before. She laid her head down on the cold metal tabletop. Shame coursed through her veins with every shaky breath. The feeling of her huge, bawdy breasts rising and falling along with each breath did nothing to soothe her anguished conscience.

The Captain threw the door open and reentered, asking loudly as she strolled the space, "So, Mrs. Hancock, have you ever been waterboarded before?"

"What?" Cassandra was startled and beyond confused. "You mean, like surfing?"

The stocky, short-haired Demarco laughed cruelly. "No, you dumb bimbo! I mean having water poured over your face so you feel like you're drowning - gasping for air."

"What? No, of course not!" Cass said, nearly yelling with fright at the police captain raising the topic of torture. Her heart sank deeper in her chest, pressing into her anxious guts.

"Well," the Captain paced the small room, "maybe you should. Maybe it would build some character... or teach you some... humility."

The busty blonde thought to speak but swallowed her words, then spat them back out, "First you let your fat pigs rape me and now you want to torture -"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Captain Demarco's voice rattled the walls and shook Cassandra's spine. Cass cowered as the verbal onslaught continued.

"NOT ANOTHER WORD." The Captain pounded a fist on the table. "I WILL NOT STAND FOR YOUR ACCUSATIONS OF RAPE BY MY OFFICERS WHILE YOU SPENT THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS PULLING YOUR FAT TITS OUT AND SPREADING YOUR WHORE LEGS FOR EVERY DIRTY DICK IN THE COUNTY!"

Cassandra was frozen. Her eardrums rumbled and she sat still as stone.

"Lie down. Flat. Now."

Cass obeyed immediately. She climbed back onto the steel table, laid supine and stared at the flickering fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Dread overtook her, but she could not ignore the thought that things would only be worse if she struggled. She could hear the distinct sound of a belt being unclasped and pants falling to the floor.

The Captain's breath was heavy as she approached her captive. The busty blonde shut her eyes tight. She tried in vain to shut her ears too, but she could not block the sound and feel of Demarco climbing onto the table and ensnaring the busty blonde's head between her bare, stout thighs. Cassandra's jaw was clenched and her plump lips pursed while Demarco pinned her arms down and lowered her cunt to Cass's face.

"Stick out your tongue, slut."

Seeing no escape, Cass reluctantly did so. She was just grateful for the privilege of keeping her eyes closed.

Captain Demarco's coarse, hairy muff came crashing into Cass's mouth. All of the dyke's weight pressed her tongue down against her chin. Settling into place, the Captain let out a cruel, contented sigh. Demarco's calves squeezed Cassandra's huge, round breasts from either side as she made herself comfortable. Cass's nose pressed close against Demarco's pelvis, inhaling her disgusting funk.

"That's it. Yeah. Keep your tongue right there. Don't you move a fuckin' inch."

The dykey dominatrix slowly slid her long-neglected cunt along Cass's wet, flattened tongue. Demarco moaned and sighed with each slow thrust of her hips along the young blonde's mouth. She squeezed hard around Cass's forearms as she held them down against the table and above her head, digging her short fingernails into the blonde's skin. Her legs groped clumsily at the soft, bouncy flesh of Cass's big, bouncy tits.

Cassandra's face was puckered harder than a child who'd bitten a lemon. She warily opened one eye just enough to see the blank, slack-jawed stare on the Captain's face.

This corrupt cunt has waited all her life to pin down a sexy girl like me, Cass thought. Sick fuck. The whole lot of them. This whole department is slimier than a lubed-up shit after anal.

Cass's legs squirmed and her fat, balloonish tits wobbled as Captain Demarco's thrusts broke into a trotting pace. Brutishly dragging her hairy, unloved cunt along Cassandra's tongue, the Captain soon started panting like a bitch in heat. At the peak of each thrust, the Captain rolled her hips and pressed her stiff clit deep into the soft, bumpy meat of Cass's pink tongue.

"Your mouth... it's much better..." she said between strokes of her pussy across Cassandra's wet, sticky face, "when it's not just... talking stupid." She grunted and clenched her thighs. They trembled on either side of Cass, jiggling the blonde's huge breasts along with every tremor. The bouncing bimbo was tempted to bite the foul dyke's clit and make her scream in agony but she knew the bitch would just lock her up if she did.

Cassandra remained pinned down and helpless, forced to eat the cruel, corrupt carpetmuncher's cunt. The Captain's breath quickened further, becoming shallower and faster with every frantic thrust. Cass worried the skin of her face would be rubbed raw by the sandpapery coarseness of the lesbian's labia. She groaned in discomfort while the Captain whined and wailed with glee. Cassandra kept her eyes shut tight and endured as her face was bumped and grinded by sticky, scratchy minge. Finally, after several more agonizing minutes, the Captain came.

Thick, sticky wetness gushed onto Cass's face. It leaked into her nose, trickled down her cheeks and coated her lips and tongue. The queer cowgirl kept rough-riding her face, hopping and grinding with all her shaking strength as she yelped and whined like a beaten dog.

At last Cass understood why she had brought up waterboarding. Desperately gasping and kicking her legs furiously, the big-titted beauty was drowning in sopping wet muff. Demarco held her firmly with a viciously tighten grip on each of Cass's writhing wrists. At the same time, the Captain's own legs thrashed uncontrollably, making it a struggle to keep from launching herself off of the table and away from this outstanding orgasm.

Cassandra's every attempt to breathe brought along with it the Captain's juices to fill her mouth and nose even further. A fire was lit in Cassandra's aching lungs, and panic consumed her. She was pushing, pulling and fighting as much as she could, but it was all futile. The Captain was likewise holding on for dear life as her body convulsed on Cass's tongue. Her clit was unbelievably hard. The dominatrix thought it might even tear into the soft, pink flesh of Cass's tongue like a diamond stud. Of course, she didn't really care whether it did or not.

Nothing mattered to her but the total release of decades worth of pent up sexual frustration and anger. Recompense for all the sexual inequities she'd ever faced had finally been brought within her grasp and so she seized it with all her newfound power. She tossed her short-haired head back and beamed with satisfaction as an incredible, wicked, and meteoric thrill surged up her spine.

Burbling under the Captain's drenched cunt, Cassandra's head pounded and her lungs begged for air. Feeling the tunnel narrow around her, she finally sucked her tongue back inside her mouth and screamed into the lesbian's labia in one final act of desperation. She thought that Demarco must have heard the muffled yell in her muff because, in what seemed to be a stunning act of mercy, the tyrannical dyke relented. Raising one leg over Cass's head, the Captain abruptly fell from the table and collapsed onto the floor. Clumsily, she scrambled to sit with her back against the cold wall and her hairy pussy leaking onto the concrete floor.

Rolling onto her stomach, Cass heaved huge breaths into her lungs while her huge tits squished against the warmed steel tabletop. The Captain's cunt juices dripped from her nose and jaw as she filled her tortured lungs with air. The blonde bimbo's vision spun and her head ached like someone was beating against the walls of her skull with a ball-peen hammer.

Despite feeling like she had just narrowly escaped death, she couldn't help but notice something else distressing in the corner of the room. Captain Demarco had crumpled into a twitching heap and was whimpering while a stream of tears and snot poured from her eyes and nose. There was a puddle quickly forming on the floor around her legs.

Catching her breath and straightening her bikini once more, Cass averted her eyes from the unsightly, wailing dyke in the corner. She couldn't help but pity the cruel captain. Though her anger toward the bitch still boiled beneath the surface, Cass turned toward the crumpled woman and opened her mouth to offer some comforting words. However, she then remembered the Captain's berating about her "talking stupid" and shut her mouth accordingly. The two women lingered for a painfully awkward while until Demarco ran out of steam, quieted, stood, grabbed her pants, and left without a word.

Cassandra sat alone, beside herself, until someone came to retrieve her. The same young officer that had brought her a towel and water returned carrying another set of the same. All he said while handing them to her was, "Here," and before she could finish desperately gulping down the entire bottle he was beckoning her out the door. Wiping her face and neck with the towel, she followed him down the scratchily carpeted hallway in her bare feet.

I'll bet he was watching everything through that one-way mirror, Cass decided. He's sort of handsome, in a police officer's sort of way, though he seems all too familiar with my body for the two brief times he's seen me. Peeping Tom creep, she affirmed herself.

At the end of the long hall they took a right, then a left, then a right, until they reached a secluded, square concrete room divided across its middle by steel bars. The steel barred door leading into the cell was already wide open. When the officer reached the bars, he turned face-to-face with her. "Now turn around. Put your back against the bars."

"What? What the fuck?" Cass implored him, tears forming in her eyes as her voice cracked. "Your Captain said you'd let me go today."

"The day is young," he said with a snide grin across his square, closely shaven face, "it's only dawn, after all."

"So what? How long are you PRICKS gonna keep me here?"

"I said back against the bars, whore."

Submitting once again, Cassandra pressed her bare skin against the cold steel and stood silently as the uniformed cop stepped into the cell and handcuffed her wrists behind her back and through the bars waist level. The metal of the cuffs rattled against the bars. Cass tested her range of movement and found he had left them generously loose on her wrists.

Her captor stepped back out of the cell to face her, quipping, "This isn't doing you any good anyway," as he tugged loose the ties of her white bikini top and tossed it to one side of the bare room.

Cass had no defense to the statement, but she let a scowl flare across her face anyway. He was not at all deterred and immediately began molesting her huge, perky, round tits. "So they're real after all," he said, smiling in amazement.

"Of course they're real!" The busty blonde snapped.

He firmly and slowly groped and squished her soft, abundant breasts with both of his hands. Cass stifled herself from making a noise, pretending she was indifferent to every fervid impression he made on her. His fingers sunk into her creamy flesh, making it bulge and flatten only to bounce right back after he released her. Cass couldn't help but bite her lip and blush at the intense examination. After squeezing every prodigious part of them, both of his hands turned their attention to her left breast and began to pull and tug in concert from its center to the stiffened pink nipple.

The young, busty blonde felt a steamy gasp escape her lips. It's like he's trying to milk me, she thought. I don't know what his deal is, but it feels kind of good... She studied his stern face and found no anger or cruelty in it. Looking at his chest pocket she noticed the sewn patch with his name, 'Sgt. MacFarland.' He was taller than her, but not by much, and wore a standard police officer's peaked hat over closely buzzed brown hair.

Brusquely, the quiet, trim cop stepped away. Cassandra let out a sigh of disappointment then kicked herself for it. She stood and watched with patient obedience as he pulled a previously unnoticed wooden stool from the corner of the room and placed it in front of her. But instead of sitting on it, he reached into a pouch on his belt and brought forth a pair of pink hair ties. He had obviously come prepared for... something.

With curiosity, Cass cooperated and turned her head for him as he carefully stroked her blonde hair to the back of her head and tied it into two long, dangling golden pigtails which fell from the top of her scalp to drape over either of her ears.

"There," he said, taking a breath and a seat on the stool before gently but firmly returning his hands to her heavy left teat. His grasp was warm and deliberate. The captive blonde made no attempts to resist as he resumed his massaging, urging pulls at her plump, perky breasts.

He continued with diligent, measured motions for more than 10 minutes, his face stoic with concentration. The busty blonde laid back against the bars and used the peculiar break to rest her sleep-deprived eyes. Her nipple was profoundly hot and stiff from the titillation. She couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed her right breast was being left out.

"There it is," MacFarland suddenly spoke with a low, prideful voice. "There it is." The focus on his face turned to a wide, beaming smile. His grip tightened on the tip of her nipple more than ever before as a thin, barely visible spurt of whitish liquid burst from her nipple.

"What - what did -" Cass stammered and was cut off by a harsh clamp of his fingers on her hot pink nipple.

"Shh... sh... sh... sh... Hush. Don't speak." He pulled another, larger spurt of milk from her fat, supple breast, this one coming in several small simultaneous streams. "Cows don't speak," he told her.

Her bright blue eyes went wide. She gasped in disbelief, standing aghast and studying his methods.

"Cows moo." He lectured. "They don't speak."

The Sergeant's hands moved back upward along her huge round breast and skillfully rubbed their way back to her nipple. Cass's nipples ached with desire, the one receiving all of the adoration was practically in flames.

"Oh..." she put her head back against the bars and moaned, "Oh, fuck..."

Another set of thin white streams of milk shot from her breast and wettened the Sergeant's dark shirt. The instant the stream stopped, he stepped on her bare toes with his heavy-tread shoes and made her shriek.

"OUCH!!" She cried. "What the fuck was that for!?"

He stepped on her again. "I told you already. Cows moo."

Masterfully, his strong hands built forceful tension within the mass of her supple breast and brought it down to her trickling nipple for thrilling release and relief. Again and again he milked her huge, hot young breast. He hummed with satisfaction as he worked. The white streams remained thin and small but the sensations of their release were increasingly intoxicating.

"Oohhhh," she groaned. He shot her a look of disdain. Cass flinched, then bit her lip and waited for the next stream to be released. At that sweetly awaited moment, with a lump in her throat, the busty blonde bikini bimbo submitted even further.

"Moooooo...."

The milking man said nothing yet Cass felt her pussy getting hotter every second that followed. Her face was flushed, her breasts too. She didn't need words anymore. Ever since the police first arrived all that her words had done was make things worse. At this point, it was truly a liberating idea that she needn't think or speak, only feel and obey. Watching, feeling, and evaluating the building pressure in her breast only for it to be freed and leak out of her swollen teat was consuming her consciousness. The recurrent building of anticipation and the inevitable release that followed brought more satisfaction than she could have ever imagined.

"Mooo..." she moaned again, exhaling dreamily and meditatively.

"Mmmm..." he responded, then hummed repeatedly with each spritz of watery white milk.

Her tired, addled mind wondered if she might be lactating like this because of an accidental pregnancy but she knew it was far too soon for that to happen. It must be all the stimulation my boobs are getting lately, she concluded, especially all the love that this guy is giving.

Another gratified "Mooo..." escaped her lips.

His hands moved from her heavy, leaky breast as his warm, brown eyes met her blues. "That's a good girl," he assured her. One of his hands reached up to stroke along a dangling blonde pigtail as the other cupped her hitherto neglected left tit. Cass silently gasped at his touch and the surprising sensation of his warm, close-shaven mouth latching onto her dripping nipple.