Stripped Of Her Badge Ch 08

This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. This story is a bit different from my usual fare. To be clear, this is a story where the woman cheats on her man. But a lot of my usual themes are present. There is betrayal, seduction, and heartbreak. It features huge tits and big cocks. And don't expect a happy ending. This is a story about cops and criminals... such stories aren't always pretty. The good characters have shades of darkness, and the bad have shades of appeal. One other thing to point out, as it has come up from time to time, the villain of this story is quite arrogant. Over the years, I've noticed some readers bristle at characters like that, so be warned. If you don't enjoy stories featuring arrogant antagonists, this story won't be for you. So, for those who think they can handle a story like this, go forward.

Additionally, this story is a LONG one, even for me. You have my permission to skip around if you don't want to get too in the weeds. This story is a slow-burn over multiple chapters that ratchets up the tension until it explodes. Not every chapter features sex, but there are heated moments throughout that build up to the main event. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, just don't say you weren't warned.

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Monica had such high hopes for the next morning.

By the time she got home after the failed sting op at the Tiger Lily club, her mind shredded, her entire body sore and exhausted, she had just enough energy before passing out to shower and wash off any signs of the long, hard night she'd shared with David. And through it all, she clung to the idea that, once she had a night to rest and recharge, she would wake up with a plan of attack against him. With a renewed body and refocused mind, with the benefit of the additional info he'd let slip during their... extended encounter... she hoped her cop brain would be sharp enough to figure out how to take him down, while also finding an excuse that would explain away exactly what happened the night before. A golden, perfect plan that would bring the bad guys to justice and allow Monica to evade any of the fallout for her abysmal moral failings. And as she finally passed out in her bed, she clung to the belief that such hope wasn't a fairy tale.

However, the next morning, she found herself vigorously fingering herself in the shower, two digits dug knuckle-deep up her needy pussy, trying to scratch an itch that she found she couldn't reach on her own. For all those big, high-minded plans, this was what the rested and refreshed cop was driven to do first thing in the light of day.

For a blessed few seconds upon waking up, she had peace, after having experienced a rest so deep that she didn't dream, passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow, not moving an inch all night. The sun was shining through the window, the birds were chirping, and she woke up feeling good. She was usually so tightly wound, but for a few minutes, she was able to relax and enjoy the comfort of her bed, not remembering a thing from the night prior, savoring the fleeting feeling of that stress-knot deep in her system being unraveled for the first time in what felt like forever.

Then it all came flooding back.

She tried to push the memories away, but nothing could hold them back. Waking up fully, getting ready to start her day, wearing loose pajama pants, a snug t-shirt, and nothing else, she tried not to engage with any of the intrusive thoughts and flashes that played in her mind like a slideshow, looking away from the things she'd taken part in the night before, leaving them on the fringes of her subconscious. As she cooked breakfast, she tried to ignore the warm feelings radiating from her nether regions, those memories affecting her physically, despite her best efforts to ignore them. As she turned on the morning news, seeking anything to distract her, she didn't acknowledge that her nipples were as hard as diamonds beneath her thin top.

As much as she wished she could, Monica just couldn't ignore the events of the previous night forever. Even though she didn't want to engage with all the nasty shit she'd done, she would eventually have to comb through it all to search for anything she could use, something that could lead to a break in the case and let her flip the script on David. So... despite her reluctance to do so, as she was on autopilot getting ready for the day, she let her mind dive in, swimming against the current as she searched for anything useful.

She tried to keep her attention focused on the task at hand, on good honest police work, but searching through her memories for clues made it impossible not to acknowledge all the bad things she'd done. She brewed a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine jolt might shake off these wayward thoughts and keep her focused, but it only made her blood pump faster. She tried to keep busy, moving around her apartment tidying, trying to keep as busy as she could, but all it did was make her realize that she could still feel the massive wad of cum that had David had pumped deep inside her. And once she realized this, she couldn't ignore it. It was a constant reminder of the events of the night before, and the more she was reminded of it, that warm, satisfied feeling from deep in her core kept spreading out through her delicious body. And as it did, the truth became harder to deny.

The reason she was so distracted was because she was horny.

That fact pissed her off. Despite how much she hated to admit it, she had clearly been in great need of some rough, unholy fucking in the weeks leading up to last night's op. And in that sense, David got the job done. He used his big, thick, perfect cock to fuck her absolute brains out. He fucked her throat, her pussy, and her ass without mercy, and her body was so hungry for that kind of treatment that she lost herself in the intensity of the action. By the end, she had melted down into a puddle of blissful satisfaction. She'd been trying to stifle her body's needs for years now, and any sexual action she got on the side proved to be so ineffectual that it only made her need it more. These needs had built up so badly within herself over the years that it was bound to eventually lead her into a mistaken hookup with some cocky hung douchebag, and that's exactly what had happened. It was the worst timing ever, but that's all that had happened.

With that in the past, she now hoped that indulging those desires once and getting fucked stupid would even her out for the foreseeable future. She hoped that the one benefit of her giant fucking MISTAKE would be that the sick, wicked, disobedient desires that she had to work so hard to stifle would remain sated for the time being. Those desires had been ramped up over the course of her investigation with David as he put on the pressure, charming her, teasing her, trying to get into her pants, and the longer the case went on, the more it had clouded her judgment. After the events of the previous night, after she'd had her brains fucked out in almost every way possible... once she came down from that high, she'd been able to think more clearly than she'd been able to in months. With that buzzing, incessant thirst for sex quenched, she was left with not just the guilt over what she'd just done, but a certain clarity of mind that she hadn't experienced in a long time. Unfortunately, she was being affected in other ways, specifically exhaustion and soreness, preventing her from taking advantage of such clear thinking. Stumbling out of the Tiger Lily club and taking her place in the back of the surveillance van, drained and depleted... this is when she came up with her game plan, banking on the fact that by the morning, she'd be completely refreshed, and would be free to use her resharpened mind as the weapon it was, to dream up a new scheme to take David down.

But in the light of day, that clarity was gone. Her mind was fuzzy, easily distracted. She didn't feel like herself. And most pressingly... she was really FUCKING horny! She'd banked on the fact that her lesser half, the devil on her shoulder... the bimbo... had been fucked into a permanent coma the night before, and wouldn't trouble her for a while. She never wanted to feel that tug toward the darkness ever again. She thought she was freed of it for good.

That respite had lasted about eight hours.

That side of her nature hadn't been silenced. Not at all. If anything, it had been awakened. Empowered. The night before hadn't satisfied her cravings permanently. A deep need had been stirred from hibernation, and its hunger was worse than ever. It was drooling as it thought about its next meal. Now that she had tasted the forbidden, the bitch wanted more. She had an unquenchable appetite, and it was preventing Monica from thinking straight.

Which is how she'd ended up in the shower, rubbing her pussy frantically, just trying to take the edge off. Cold showers were the common remedy for her current state, but she always preferred it hot. She still felt marked with sin from the night before, so she thought it was necessary to crank the water up to damn near scalding, to scour away any remnants of what she'd taken part in with that obnoxious douchebag.

The water poured down her naked body, her creamy smooth flesh slightly red from the heat of the water, plus leftover handprints and welts from the night before. She'd tried to relax and meditate, clearing her mind of distractions as she scrubbed herself clean... but it didn't take long before her hand was between her legs, strumming her clit, fingering herself, chasing something resembling the pleasure she had felt with David.

She had one hand furiously working her pussy over, while her other was at her breast, pinching one of her stiff nipples savagely. Her eyes were closed as she chased the satisfaction she craved. But nothing was working. She was horny as hell, and all the tricks she's always used to take the edge off didn't work anymore. She'd experienced the real shit the night before, so anything less wasn't moving the needle for her in the slightest. So, purely for the sake of getting the job done, she let her mind flash back to David.

She let herself recall the sight of his lengthy, powerful cock and heavy, cum-filled balls. She thought about the way he so roughly fucked her throat, making her take it, not stopping till his heavy nuts were resting on her chin, her mind going so loopy by that point that she ended up begging for more. She remembered being on her knees, fucking David's massive dick with her tits, focusing on worshiping his mighty pole. It was so wrong, using her body lewdly an act that only satisfied him, but there was a twisted fulfillment she found in it, like a submissive slave-girl pleasuring her conquering king on his throne, using the massive, perfect attributes of her femininity to worship the root of his superior, masculine power, as if she were the deposed queen displaying how she could be useful in his new empire.

She remembered well just how massive his spear felt in her pussy, the young stud driving it into her as she rode him, even fucking her while carrying her around like a conquering warrior. This was all before he laid her down on the floor, threw her legs over his shoulders, and mercilessly power-fucked her till her brain melted, until she was screaming over and over again, not stopping until he pumped a giant wad of cum deep inside her. Fuck... she could still feel the gallon of cum he filled her up with... it felt kind of amazing inside of her. It was such a slutty thing to think, savoring the feeling of a man's sperm that he'd pumped deep in her pussy, but the feeling was undeniably satisfying. She wasn't concerned about pregnancy, despite any claims she'd made to the contrary in the heat of the moment the night before. She'd taken proper precautions in that respect, recognizing that despite her best efforts, there was a distinct possibility that the night could end with David pumping her full of his sperm. She was glad she did, because in the midst of the action, having lost her mind with pleasure, she meant every word she said. If she could have made a baby with that stud right in that moment, she would have. Luckily, in that one respect, her better angels had gotten one over on the bimbo. But even in the light of day, putting herself back in that headspace, and recalling just how incredible it felt to have a man attempt to breed her, feeling filled to the brim with his seed... she almost wished she'd let herself be even more reckless than she already had.

Normally, such a moment would be the end of the night, but not with David Delvecchio. After that, after he filled her pussy to the brim with cum, at the point she thought the whole thing had to be over given just how substantial his orgasm was, she recalled how quickly he leapt back into action. She remembered every incredible detail about how he cuffed her wrists, pushed her down, spread her out, and claimed her ass, sensing an unspoken hunger in her that was just waiting to be fed, doing so with confidence and pure masculine dominance, making her mind melt as he made her ass cum, the culmination of her pleasure that night fittingly achieved through such a filthy, wicked act.

These were the thoughts playing across Monica's mind as she stood in the shower, surrounded by heat and steam. And as she found herself standing under the shower head, feeling the water raining down on her, she thought about the even more satisfying feeling of having her face and tits painted with David's warm, heavy cum.

She was right back in the action with David, on her knees, hands cuffed behind her back, completely at his mercy. Her pleasure had been world-shaking, but this moment, where his lust reached its culmination, and he performed such an indecent act, cumming all over her, marking her as his bitch... that was the true culmination of the night. The main event. And she was back in the heat of the moment, basking in the memories. Feeling those same things. It was just SO good! So unbelievably satisfying. Too fucking good, quite frankly. Because as she toyed with her clit, and fingered her pussy with desperation, and used her other hand to pinch her nipples roughly, she realized what she was doing to herself didn't compare, even to the satisfaction of taking part in an act that was only about David and his pleasure. It wasn't enough. She couldn't cum.

David knew her body better than she did.

Her body was clearly an instrument for pleasure, but it was one that required a master's hand to play right. It was not something that could be achieved on her own. She was chasing something that she couldn't quite catch, and despite her best efforts, despite sprinting towards it as ferociously as she could, that pleasure remained elusive.

Eventually, all her efforts amounting to naught, she had to stop and catch her breath. To cool down, and regather herself. As she did, as she opened her eyes and returned to the present, reckoning with what she'd just been doing. That she'd been behaving like an overheated whore, masturbating lewdly in the shower like a total bimbo. That she'd been fantasizing about David, recalling their night together fondly, coming to the realization that she'd never be able to bring herself to the same highs without his help.

She'd been freed from his grasp, but she was still under his mercy.

She slammed the side of her fist into the tile wall of the shower angrily. Catching her breath, she refocused on the task at hand, cleaning herself with a renewed sense of purpose to scrub away any sign of the night before. As she rubbed soap on her breasts, her eyes caught the light bouncing curiously in certain spots, only to realize that tiny flecks of stripper-glitter had somehow ended up on her chest over the course of the previous night. And despite her best efforts to scour her chest, it wouldn't go away, as if fused to her like a tattoo. She remembered from her days undercover how hard glitter was to get off. Eventually, as the water cooled, she had to give up and move on, her chest still wearing this silent, shimmering mark of the bimbo she was trying to run away from.

It wasn't a particularly warm morning, but as soon as she got dressed for work, she felt overheated. She wasn't wearing anything unusual, an outfit she'd worn many times: a simple, professional top, and some nice, functional work slacks, but she immediately felt restrained... uncomfortable. It was as if her body was having an allergic reaction to such a boring, sensible outfit. She tried to let this feeling pass, but she only got more feverish wearing it, as if her body was rejecting it. Dreading a full day of this feeling, she finally did something about it, ripping off her clothes, changing her outfit until she found one that her body didn't react poorly to. Checking herself in the mirror, she took in her own reflection.

Instead of conservative slacks, she'd chosen tight, flattering jeans, the type that showed off her ass, the denim glued to the firm, juicy cheeks. There was no gain in terms of function, but it made her ass look unreal. And instead of a somewhat bulky top that obscured anything that would get her any unwanted attention, she chose a thin, red, button-up top that only felt comfortable with a few buttons undone, exposing a hint of her juicy cleavage. This wouldn't serve any grander purpose in terms of her job... it would just show off her tits. Underneath, she'd kept up the theme, dressing a little more sexy than usual, the tighter, slightly more revealing outfit almost requiring it. It wasn't that she wanted to... she just kinda... had to. She shook her head and rolled her eyes even as she pulled a tiny thong up her legs and over her hips until it was nestled firmly between her cheeks, but once it was in place, the small rewarding rush she felt is what made up her mind to keep it on. And the way her nipples stiffened as she pulled on a matching black lace bra did the same. Her body finally accepted this choice, but it almost didn't feel like her own choice. Her heart sank as she came to grips with the fact that her sluttier half was likely still very much present somewhere within her, exerting pressure on her from the darkness, and she was upset with herself that she had to placate it in order to function.

She shook her head before leaving, vowing to keep that part of her in check as much as possible until the case was done. Until she was able to take some time and fully reckon with everything that happened between herself and David. She knew that fully indulging the bimbo within herself was a direct path to some very bad things. And as hot and tempting as it might be, nothing clean and healthy was that wicked and filthy.

She opted to walk to work. It was a bit of a hike, but she thought the sunlight and fresh air would do her some good. Due to her long night, she wasn't scheduled until midday, so she had plenty of time. The clear sunlight and crisp morning air did the trick, easing the pressure she was feeling, a weight lifting off her shoulders as soon as she stepped outside. If that bimbo inside her was still there, the morning light was pure enough to drive it back fully into the shadows, allowing her to think clearer. This was the type of clarity she'd been hoping for, and knowing such a thing may be fleeting, she took advantage, wading through everything that had happened the night before, searching for anything she could use against David.

It felt like the biggest revelation from the last night had been lost in the shuffle. In the heat of passion, lost in the fog of sexual warfare, David had actually confessed to the crime. He was the one who put out the hit on the mayor, not his brother. Monica had been investigating the unsolved murder for months now, and she expected to feel deep relief upon learning the true culprit. But she did not.