[Ambush-predator]

A white cop cunt had come running out of an alley and seen him jumping in. She stood in the road speaking into her radio. It was pretty obvious what to do. He fired the ignition and drove hard at her. She wasn’t entirely stupid: she stopped her radio chatter and sprang on to the pavement. But his blood was up, he was angry at the fucking Feds for trying to catch him and if he let her alone, she might get his van’s number from the rear. He had to slow down to drive on to the pavement, or he might well burst a tyre. She hadn’t expected the van to mount the pavement. She saw him coming and froze, beautiful fear in her face. He hit her hard enough to throw her up on to the bonnet and her nice big azz flattened against the windscreen. He braked hard and she rolled off a bit to the side. He put his foot down and felt two thuds. The second was from coming back off the pavement.

He couldn’t resist braking again so he could look back at her. To his surprise she wasn’t just lying there like a squashed rabbit only with different ears. She was trying to get up. Her azz was up in the air and he had to admit it looked cool. He also saw something he hadn’t noticed before in the heat of the moment. Her shoulder-markings said she was an Inspector. Raping an inspector was something he couldn’t let pass. He’d never forgive himself. So he didn’t drive off and he didn’t reverse to finish her off. He jumped out, grabbed her by her collar and her blonde hair, dragged her to the back of the van and loaded her in. She was dazed and didn’t resist much, but otherwise she looked in surprisingly good shape. She’d been lucky – or not. As he dumped her she made a move one arm. He stamped on her hand and hit her in the mouth. The blood from that was the only blood he could see, but he’d have to give the van a good clean-out. He needed to hurry, but he reckoned it was worth cuffing her wrists with her own cuffs. Then he was on his way with the most valuable cargo he’d ever carried.

One police car with siren sounding and light flashing hurried in the opposite direction a minute later, but no-one followed him.

Some way on, he pulled into a parking space, parking carefully and showing no signs of urgency. Like a good citizen, he’d stopped before using his phone. No point getting nicked for something unconnected to rape, especially with two pigs in the back.

The female voice on the other end sounded amused and indulgent.

“Sweetheart, I’m a bit tied up at the moment, or rather he is. Still, you’re ringing me at work so it must be important, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve got two pigs in the back of the van.”

“Are they searching it?” she misunderstood. “No, shit, you mean you’ve taken two of them – two bitches? You never took your work home before, not your special work.” He picked up the unstated question.

“The fuckers were after me, setting a trap with decoys. Only something went wrong for them, ha ha, what a shame. I got away and picked up two of them when they tried to stop me.” He could tell her the whole story later including about the redhead he’d already raped.

“UN-BE-LEEEEVABLE!” she cheered. “Two of them tried to stop you and you got them both?”

“’Sright,” he confirmed, trying to sound matter-of-fact, as if he raped and kidnapped multiple policewomen every week. “When’ll you be back home?”

“Couple of hours, maybe a bit less. Fuck, I’m looking forward to seeing them. Can I play with them?”

“Yeah, ‘course you can, lovebird. Bring your equipment. Bye.”

“Fantasies, fantasies!” she said to the waiting middle-aged white man whose flabby body was strung up facing the wall, wearing nothing but old-fashioned women’s suspender belt and stockings. “My boyfriend. Ideas for a role-play.” His eyes responded but his mouth could not because of the ball gag.

A banging started at the back of the van. He went round and found the inspector cunt had rolled to one side and was thumping her cuffed fists against the metal. He gave her a good kick up her uniformed arse and forced her legs back until he could tape her ankles to her neck. She looked good, like some kind of fantasy picture on the net. He tapped his foot lightly against her cunt to make his point and left her. There was no more banging as he drove on.

The house wasn’t that big, but it had a small garage to the side of the front door. It was just big enough for the van and it meant he could open the garage door on remote and drive right in, so there was no risk of anyone seeing what he was unloading. The garage had a connecting door with the house.

He moved the inspector first and he could have believed she was just a big sex doll. The Black cunt was different. He’d trussed her up at the mouth, wrists and ankles, but she’d woken up and her eyes spelt not fear, but hatred. He was quite surprised at this. She was going to be interesting. So she got the message, he didn’t lift her over his shoulder this time, but picked her up by the ankles and carried her that way, letting her head bump against everything in its way. He threw her on top of the inspector in the dining-room. He could move them later, but for now this room had the advantages of having some space, having a table and not having windows to the outside. He could take them up to a bedroom or down to the cellar later when Elise had come back.

He’d met Elise when he’d been on holiday in France and had gone to an interesting night-club. She’d been performing. Her parents had been from Mali in the old French African empire – mostly Black African, but a bit of Arab had got in somehow. Something in Jerome – a hint of power and ruthlessness, maybe, or maybe his politeness, attentiveness and attention to detail – had attracted her. She’d already been earning most of her money from being a dom, but she’d heard Englishmen were into “The English disease” and the Scots had caught it too, so when things got serious with Jerome, she was willing to uproot. He had a decent job, but she brought in much more money than he did.

They’d often discussed rape fantasies and when he’d started doing it for real, she’d known from the start though he hadn’t actually told her until he brought her a ring from one of his victims. Now from time to time he brought her gifts from them, a camera maybe or some nice panties. They saw themselves as fellow predators.

Now he had two piggies trussed up in the house and about an hour in which to prepare them for Elise. He didn’t want her to miss anything exciting, so he wouldn’t do much to them for the time being. But he could at least strip them. No, she hated the pigs and she’d be disappointed to miss the uniformed cunt getting stripped. So that left the Black cunt with the gigantic tits and azz.

He stood over them, turning over the Black one so they could both look up and see his face. He wasn’t hiding it and they’d both know what that meant. He ripped the tape off their mouths. The Black one took advantage of that right away.

“What have you done to my friend?” she demanded. “Is she...” SPPLACK! He reckoned he’d never slapped a bitch so hard before. It stopped the haughty cunt in her tracks.

“YOU SPEAK POLITE TO ME, PIG BITCH! SAY PLEASE!” he ordered. She looked frightened now, but still determined.

“Please – the officer who wasn’t responding is my special friend. Please tell me if she’s all right,” she managed.

“She white, tall, red hair, long legs, round azz?”

“Erm...yes.”

“Yeah, I fucked her azz and cunt and I carved her a bit. Why?”

“You carved her?”

“Yeah, She your lezzie lover?”

“NO! We’re just, I mean, friends and colleagues. Did you really carve her?”

“Yeah, but only a cool little picture on the azz. Nothing to what I’m gonna do to you and your Inspector cunt, Miss Coconut.” She showed that anger.

“I’m NOT a coconut!” He slapped her, almost casually, as if to point out he could hit her hard whenever he liked.

“You’re whatever I say you are, coconut bitch!” he told her. Fighting the pain and the blood and struggling to make words, she asked:

“You didn’t kill her?” He smiled.

“Nah, she was still breathing. I want her to remember me, especially in her dreams!”

“Leave her alone! You won’t get away with this!” It was another voice – the white inspector cunt. He hammered his fist into her mouth and shut her up, leaving blood on her nice crisp uniform shirt.

“Oh, dear me, I’ve annoyed the Inspector!” he gloated. “That is seeeerious! She’s coming to get me!” He paused. “So I’m not gonna get away with this am I, pig? Like your operation was gonna catch me? Were you in charge of it?”

She stared at him with hatred, gulped, and replied:

“I was second in command.” They were both disappointed. As soon as she’d spoken she wished she hadn’t replied to him at all. He would much rather his captive had been in charge of the attempt to catch him.

“You’re not in command of anything now, darling. I command you,” he told her. “I’m not gonna strip you now because my girlfriend’s coming back and she HATES pigs. I want her to see you in uniform before we take it off. You do look HEEELARIOUS doubled up like that with your piggy azz stuck out. Is it comfortable?”

“No, it’s not,” Sylvie Mackay responded.

“Tough,” said Jerome. “Now this big-titted Black pig is one of yours, yeah? She was under your command and it’s because of you she’s gonna be my slave and get raped and a whole, whole lot more? IS THAT RIGHT, INSPECTOR PIGGY?”

She didn’t reply immediately, so he clenched his fist and stared at her left eye. She got the message.

“She is under my command and she was following instructions over on Tonford Heath,” she replied.

“So she’s here because of what you did?”

“Yes.” He smiled broadly.

“So it’s fair enough that I make you watch everything we do to her, yeah?” She didn’t reply but this time he wasn’t bothered. “Right, let’s get Miss Coconut ready for the fun,” he said. He did the whole thing slowly with exaggerated gestures as if it was ballet. Off came her trainers, but he left on her bright yellow and black socks.

He paused.

“Oh, sorry girls, we haven’t been introduced. I’m the Tonford Rapist, right? I haven’t even found out your names. Let’s look.” He found the Inspector’s ID easily, but had to search longer for Julie’s. When he’d got them both, he held them up like some kind of announcer.

“Let me introduce the white pig, EEEEENSPECTOR Sylvie Mackay – we’re gonna inspect her very closely soon – and coconut pig CUNTstable Julie De la Rue. Foreign name, innit, Julie? Exotic, like some name on a card in a phone box in Soho. Are you a whore, Julie?”

Julie just shook her head, so he took hold of her ear and twisted it till she shrieked.

“Answer me, pig!” he ordered.

“No, I’m not a whore!” she wailed. He let go.

“Oh, but you are, darling, and I’m gonna prove it to you,” he told her. He took the neck of her white top in both hands, tensed for a moment, and ripped it from her big, black tits.

He’d seen that she had huge tits, but it was still a dramatic moment. What could he call them? Enormous, bulging, juicy, inviting – and now, wobbling and moving in and out prettily with her deep breaths.

“Miss Piggy, you have one hell of a pair of big, black jugs!” he told her, fondling and patting them. “How often do men get their hands on them?”

“You pervert!” the Inspector hissed. This time he didn’t punch her, but just gripped her ear and twisted it, slowly, lovingly, more and more until she screamed.

“I could tear this pretty little piggy ear right off, white trash,” he pointed out. “Shall I?” He listened with a smile to the reply,

“NO, PLEASE, NO, DON’T!” and let go. She didn’t interfere again.

Jerome turned to his other captive.

“I ASKED YOU HOW OFTEN MEN GET THEIR HANDS ON YOUR MASSIVE JUGS, PIG. YOU HAVEN’T ANSWERED!” he hectored. Then, much more quietly, he added. “Here’s my knife. It’s very, very sharp. How many jugs do you want to keep?”

“Both, both, two please!” she replied in a panic. “And only one man touches them, my boyfriend!”

“Got a boyfriend, have you? Oh, yeah. Just noticed. A nice ring. That platinum?”

“Gold.”

“That’s an engagement ring, innit? So, you’re engaged to your boyfriend. How nice. Is he black?” There was a slight pause and a dropping of her gaze before she replied,

“Yes. He is.” Jerome’s understanding of practical psychology was good.

“You’re lying, cop cunt!” he hissed. He drew the knife lightly down the side of her breast, leaving a thin red line. “He’s white, innit?”

He was surprised at the cop cunt’s reaction. She burst into tears. He waited a bit, slapped her and asked again.

“Yes, he’s white,” she admitted. “Why shouldn...Oh.” He’d grabbed her other tit and the knife was poised.

“Your fucking ancestors were slaves who opened their legs to white masters,” he pointed out. “You’re still doing the same, fucking coconut. And for what? I bet he’s got a miserable little cock.” He pulled out his own magnificent version. “Is it this big? IS IT, PIG?” She stared at his cock like a rabbit caught in headlights and burst out crying again. A slight motion with his knife stopped her.

“No, it’s not. It’s not that big,” she answered.

“You pathetic show-off! What do you think’s so sp...” the Inspector began, speaking for the first time in a while. He slapped her hard enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see her head fall off and she shut up. You had to train them – and some of them learnt quicker than others.

“Time to see your azz and cunt, Miss Piggy,” Jerome said conversationally to the Black captive, lumping her over tit down. That was easier said than done, as he struggled to get her tight jeans down over her massive arse and hips. Still, he was strong, something ripped and suddenly the jeans slipped down, revealing her massive buttocks. Or almost revealing, because she was wearing panties, and moreover, to his amazement they covered the entire arse. They were an unusual colour, a warm amber, but without any decoration. There was a price for the amazing coverage: they were skin-tight. He knew people used the term “skin-tight” almost routinely – jeans were never just tight, but skin-tight – but the pig’s amber panties really were skin-tight, like a second skin, and taut as a drum over her arsecrack. It was some cool sight, one he immortalised with his smartphone. He reconsidered. He’d meant to strip the pig naked for Elise to enjoy, but now he thought she’d like to see just what he was seeing now. He’d leave them on for now.

“Shit, where did you get those panties, Pig?” he asked. “The elephant house at the zoo?” She didn’t answer, so he smacked her great fat buttock twice, hard. The vast overflow of juicy pork was constrained by those tight panties, but still it recoiled, deformed and bounced back each time. He loved her scream, but knew he should reserve the rest of her screaming for Elise.

While he waited he could lift both their watches, their money and anything else worth taking. The Black bitch had a really cool watch which looked new. He tried to pull her ring off but couldn’t budge it. The white bitch had a ring with a diamond and he pulled that off her. She protested, as if she had some right to the thing, but all he had to do to shut her up was smile close in her face and spit in it. She got the message.

He counted their banknotes and estimated the coins. From three pigs he’d collected over £110! This business was profitable.

It hurt Julie horribly that this devil was taking her nice watch, which Tony had given her for her birthday only two days ago. He was going to rape her, that was for sure, and he was humiliating her all he could. He’d not been bothered about showing his face, so he might even mean to kill her. But she must hang on to some vestige of decency. She kept Tony’s smiling face in her mind. She would do that whatever this bastard did to her.

Sylvie Mackay lay and fought with her conflicting emotions. She was scared – and she felt a senior officer ought not to be so scared. She was going to be raped and very likely killed if no rescue came. But she was most hurt because she had been responsible, under Glendenning, for this operation and it had gone so horribly wrong, with awful consequences for Cathy Lindsay and probably worse for poor Julie De la Rue. The perverted, sadistic bastard had pummelled her into submission so she dared not intervene on Julie’s side again, but she still felt responsible for her.

One other thing began to disturb her. She wanted a pee.

Jerome heard the front door go. Elise was back early. Now things could really get going.

Meanwhile, PC Sandra Rees was sobbing in a dark room. She had been sobbing for a long time. As soon as she’d been left alone in the store-room with Darren Wilkins, she’d known what to expect. He hadn’t finished with her. He was stronger than her. Sergeant Patterson wouldn’t believe her if she complained. So when Darren ordered her on to her knees, pulled out his cock and told her to take it in her mouth, she obeyed. She hated it, and hated it all the more for his noisy enjoyment. She felt defiled. He said she was a slut and he was right.

Then someone had opened the door. A grim Sergeant Patterson had ordered Darren out.

“Right, lassie – you were supposed to contact all the officers on decoy duty and you failed to contact PC Lindsay on time. As a result she was cruelly assaulted, beaten and raped.” He stressed the last word, the rolling Scottish R making it sound worse. “That is dereliction of duty and besides that, you assaulted a fellow officer and a superior, namely me. Yir career is at an end.” He let it sink in. “There’s only one way you can save yourself, and that’s if I decide not to report the assault. Now why should I do that?”

She walked over to him, knelt and unzipped his flies.