[Ambush-predator]

One day Elise had a new client, younger than most. He was obviously fascinated by her services, but not sure which options to take.

“OK – tell me your fantasies and I’ll find something to suit you,” said Elise.

“Bondage,” he said, “with a lot of violence and rape.” He looked up, but Elise was simply waiting for him to carry on. She’d heard all that many times before. “If a woman turns me down, she deserves to get raped,” he added. She nodded. “I done that to a bitch once,” he confided. He looked worried, but Elise reassured him.

“Darren,” she said, “whatever you tell me in here stays here, OK? If you’ve raped someone, that’s fine by me.” He hadn’t told the full truth to anyone and this frustrated him, for he felt proud of his clever trick and delighted with what it had brought on that prissy cunt Cathy Lindsay. He told the whole story. It seemed to be going down well: the Black whore with the funny French accent was impressed.

“This happened where, Darren?” she asked.

“Tonford Heath. Why?”

“No charge for today. There is someone I’d like you to meet.”

Cathy Lindsay recovered slowly from the physical and mental effects of her brutal rape. She did not recover at all from the disappearance of her best friend Julie, and the realisation that Julie had probably been rushing to save her when she had met her fate did not help. Massive efforts by the police had failed to find any sign of the fate of either PC De la Rue or Inspector Mackay and they were generally assumed to be dead.

Unlike Sandra Rees, Cathy had received full support from the police service. She was still a serving constable, just on long-term sick-leave. She received counselling and responded well so she was now ready to return to work. Even more vital to her recovery than her counsellor was her older sister, a junior hospital doctor.

It was the last evening before Cathy went back to work at the police station and her sister Chrissie was with her. The two sisters looked very similar, except Chrissie was a little more generously-breasted and her hair was dark brown, almost black, instead of red.

“I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Chrissie,” Cathy said. “I couldn’t have made it. You’ve been a marvel.” Chrissie smiled.

“Cathy, sweet, I’ve only done what any sister should. You’d have done at least as much for me, I know. Now just think about how well YOU’VE done and how proud everyone at the station and in the family is of you,” she replied.

“I can hardly believe that tomorrow’s the day,” Cathy confided.

“Cathy, you’ll do just fine!” her sister assured her. The doorbell rang and Chrissie did not seem surprised. She got up and returned with Cathy’s counsellor, Ihita Krishnamurthy, who carried a brightly-wrapped bottle-shaped present. The Indian girl was pretty and curvy but short-haired and almost mannish in clothes, though her snug blue jeans emphasised a very womanly arse. After a few friendly words all round, the women set themselves to a co-operative task – making the celebration meal.

In time the meal was ready and Ihita’s fine Merlot stood opened and ready to be enjoyed. The doorbell ringing this time was a slight surprise. Ihita was nearest the door and, assuming some other guest had arrived, hurried off to let them in. The footsteps of two or three people approached.

Jerome Hammond threw the limp body of Ihita on the ground in front of the sisters. Behind him stood Darren Wilkins and Elise, who carried a large bag. Their eyes gleamed and Darren was grinning.

“Didn’t think you’d meet me again, darling, did you?” Jerome leered, staring out Cathy. “Has your sister got a cunt like yours?”

“Hello, Cathy. Meet the man who fixed your alarm that day,” said Darren.

“Who’s the Paki?” Elise asked, kicking the unconscious Ihita in the arse. For a moment the two sisters simply stared at them. Then Chrissie’s gaze slid towards a mobile phone sitting on a shelf. She ran for it and she was fast, but Darren Wilkins was closer. He tripped her and she fell headlong. He stamped on her long, outstretched fingers and kicked her in the ribs. Cathy was at him in a flash and doubled him up with a punch to the kidneys. A slicing kick from Elise to the back of her ankle brought her down screaming. Darren spat on her and went back to kicking Chrissie.

Elise had a knee in the small of Cathy’s back and a hand grasping her collar. Jerome rolled Ihita over and squeezed one tit experimentally before telling Darren,

“Leave off kicking the cunt. Damage her too much and she’ll be no fun. Her market value will go down, too.” Darren’s expression was sour, but he stopped.

“You’re all mad!” Chrissie protested. Darren kicked her again, once, harder.

“That one was allowed,” said Jerome. “Teach her to speak when it’s not wanted. Hear that, bitch? HEAR IT?” Chrissie groaned and mumbled something. “SAY IT CLEARLY, YOU STUPID CUNT!” Jerome demanded.

“I heard it. Please!” said the Doctor.

“Please leave her ARGHMP!” her sister added, stopping when Elise slammed her stupidly talking face on the floor.

Ihita groaned and shifted slightly. Jerome noticed such things. Panther-like, he stepped lightly across to her and cuffed her wrists behind her back with the cuffs he’d taken from that white inspector bitch, He’d known they’d come in useful. He set her on her back. took a good grip on her pretty short black hair and jerked her head up till he could look into her frightened, confused eyes.

“So who are you, slag sister?” he demanded. It was hurting, but she made an effort to answer clearly and calmly.

“My name is Ihita Krishnamurthy and I’m a qualified counsellor. I’ve been helping the woman whose life you tried to ruin,” she said.

“Which one was that?” Jerome asked. “Not this slag here? She enjoyed it, darling. Well, well – I’ve never had a counsellor before. Do you specialise in rape?”

“Yes,” Ihita confirmed.

“What a coincidence – so do I!” he laughed. “I’ve been making business for you. But that means, you shitty little bitch, that you’ve been making money off my hard work and the risks I take. You’ve really got it coming to you.” He jerked her head further, stopping just before he might have snapped her neck. “Now I’m leaving you to stew while we prepare the other two slags.”

He stepped across to Chrissie and helped Darren with her. Between them they stripped her down to panties and bra. Cathy tried to interfere, pleading:

“Please leave my sister alone! She’s only here because she was helping me!” But Elise slapped her and told her,

“Stupid slut! Your sister helping you is a good reason for giving it to her!” Jerome added,

“Besides, she’s got an azz and a cunt.”

“And tits!” Darren announced, having just ripped the doctor’s frilly white bra off. He took a handful of tit and squeezed. As the doctor screamed, he squeezed harder.

“See!” Elise said to Cathy, “what your stupid sister’s getting is all down to you! If you hadn’t got yourself raped and then made such a fuss about it, she wouldn’t have been round here.” Jerome stared at Chrissie’s plump, round arse in its fun panties, big red polka dots on white, at the slivers of arsecheek escaping on either side and at the enticing little crack in the middle.

“Leave this one’s panties on for the time being and strip the other two – the slag I had last time first,” he instructed. So Cathy too was stripped down to plain white bra and panties. This time it was Jerome who ripped her bra-strap apart and roughly tugged the two cups off. “Looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight since I raped you last, white slag,” he commented. “No problem with me – some people pay by weight of meat. You haven’t asked about your black coconut girlfriend, by the way. She was gold-dust – all that lovely pork, an azz the size of a bus!”

“What did you do to her?” Cathy wailed; but Jerome and Elise just laughed and made lip-smacking noises.

“Now the Paki?” Darren asked. Ihita was unwise enough to wriggle and kick, so Elise pulled her head up while Jerome slammed his fist into her face and felt the nose crunch. After that she was quite co-operative. She had one of the tightest arses he’d ever seen, Jerome thought, and that cream and gold thong was enough to drive a man mad. Her bra was in matching cream with gold trim. Who would have thought it, Jerome wondered to himself – a sexy slut when you got down far enough. All of a sudden the cunt started wailing and sobbing, and he hadn’t even beaten her properly yet. Elise looked at her with utter contempt and Darren’s gurgling laugh sounded.

“I want to bare the tits on this one!” Elise announced. Grinning, Jerome and Darren made way for her. “Sexy underwear! Deceitful little bitch!” Elise spat at her victim. She planted her foot on the girl’s smooth brown back and tugged at the bra-strap. She just kept pulling it up until it snapped. She wrenched the two cups off the dusky tits, pulled the girl’s head up and strapped her tits with the strap of her own bra. “Thought you could help rape victims hold their heads high again, did you, slut?” Elise continued. “You should be grateful to us. We’re giving you direct personal experience of the subject. Just a pity you won’t be able to use it where you’re going.”

Darren had been exploring.

“These chairs give me an idea,” he said to Jerome. They whispered together: Elise was curious.

“Right – clear the shit off the table but don’t muck up the food because we’re eating it,” said Jerome. “Leave the table-cloth on. Good. Now bring on the cunts.”

Soon three lithe female bodies were lying arse-up across Cathy’s best tablecloth – Cathy in the middle, Chrissie to her right and Ihita to her left. Their upper bodies were all angled down to meet three wooden chairs and their heads forced through the gap between back support and seat. This had been hard work in each case and it was lucky that the cross-pieces bent a little. The three women breathed heavily; their presented buttocks quivered and their legs twitched.

“You want the stuff from the bag now?” Elise asked her man. He nodded. Darren looked excited as two canes, a whip and a studded paddle came out. Unlike Jerome and Elise, he was unused to seeing defenceless female arses laid out for inspection and punishment, and it was giving him the biggest hard-on imaginable. Two very similar plump white arses stared back at him, but their panties were interestingly different. Cathy, the bitch who’d turned him down, was wearing plain white panties that almost covered her whole arse. They were tight, though, so the material over the arsecrack was a little flat area between the curving heights, like a bridge. Her sister was wearing white too, but with big red polka dots, a real slag outfit, especially as bits of arsecheek bulged outside the elastic on both sides and her panties had ridden up into the crack all the way from her arsehole to her cunt. As for the Paki slut, she was really asking for it. That warm brown arse, looking nicely roasted already, with that cream and gold thong disappearing up the crack but twitching as she sobbed and snuffled! He couldn’t agree more with Jerome: cunts who provided a shoulder for raped cunts to cry on deserved to get it themselves.

“You’re the expert,” Jerome said to Elise. She said nothing but nodded and took a good hold on the paddle. It was quite small, but with a long and carefully-crafted handle. It was covered in black leather, but twelve silver studs poked out, all cone-shaped, so pointed but not pointed enough to cut skin. She lined up Doctor Chrissie Lindsay’s carefully-tended arse and let fly. The paddle slammed into a juicy buttock with a loud SPLAT and flattened it. The Doctor screamed, the paddle withdrew and the arseflesh rebounded. The creamy flesh had taken on a delicate blush. Elise smiled hungrily and slammed the paddle in again, this time right across the deep, tight crack. Jerome was enjoying the exhibition, but Darren was entranced. Chrissie was not enjoying it, and thrashed around as much as she could with her head stuck, dislodging a plate and a pepper-pot. After two more whacks Elise paused.

“It’s not often I have three female arses set out all in one,” she said. “I fancy taking full advantage of it. One cane – out of the two; one whip; one paddle. Three of us to use them. The paddle needs the most strength, so – Jerome, here. On the whole the whip needs more skill and less brute strength than the cane, so, Darren, here’s the thicker cane. The whip’s mine. Each of us gives one of these sluts four strokes and then moves on, so each one of them gets four of everything. We should have music to go with this.” She hadn’t meant that seriously, but Darren went searching and soon came back with Cathy’s last birthday present of a new music system, plus some CDs.

“Crap,” he announced. “Mozart and that, plus a bunch of naff no-hopers.” But Elise wanted to see.

“Mozart would go well with it,” she said, “so full of joy! But Happy Christmas is better – so appropriate.” So that was what was playing as Cathy, Chrissie and Ihita were beaten. Elise, in charge, made sure no two arses got smashed at the same time, so there was an interesting sequence of splats and screams, thwacks and screams and the zip and cut of the whip. All three victims kicked and rolled about a bit, but they could not go far because their heads were trapped. After a while it became interesting for the three visitors to compare the three beautiful displays before them. The brown arse marked less well than the other two, so Elise gave it a few extra to compensate. All three victims were sobbing and wailing, so the two do-gooders, Elise thought, were sharing Cathy’s pain as they were supposed to.

Jerome enjoyed seeing how an incredible amount of arseflesh flattened under the paddle, how the whole shape of the bitch’s arse changed out of all recognition. It was a bit like working with clay, something he had done for a while as a hobby. Only the clay didn’t insist on going back to the original shape.

Darren was getting the hang of using the cane. He loved the sound it made in the air, the sound it made on impact and the angry red marks it made. After a bit he experimented with caning their thighs instead and then he poked the cane up Cathy’s arsecrack. It was lucky that the Black slag had given him the thicker, stiffer cane, because it poked well and didn’t bend. On the second poke he got it right up the bitch’s arsehole so he could let go of it and it just stuck up like a flag.

“You starting to regret dissing me, bitch?” he asked her. He liked talking black. She didn’t reply, so he shoved the flagpole in a bit further.

“Yes, yes, Darren, I’m SORRY!” Cathy cried.

“If you’d just opened your legs for me, you wouldn’t have got your alarm done, you wouldn’t have got raped then and you wouldn’t be getting raped now,” he pointed out. “So it’s all your own stupid fault. And then there’s that black friend of yours with the huge tits and the fat, wobbly arse. What’s happened to her?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Cathy wailed.

“You don’t know! Well, whatever happened to her was all your fault because if you hadn’t mucked around with me, we’d all have zeroed in on the rapist. Now you’re going to get what you deserve.” Cathy’s only response was sobbing.

“Darren, could you help me?” Elise asked politely. “Jerome too – thanks. I want this slut’s legs held apart.” Ihita was nicely splayed so her buttocks parted and her cunt peeped out invitingly. “Excellent!” Elise purred – and Jerome knew from the hungry, lustful look on her face that something special was coming. Just before she did it, he guessed what.

Elise raised the whip and brought it down hard and with immaculate aim right into the rape counsellor’s arsecrack. The woman screamed and bucked so much she lifted the chair off the ground for a second. Elise frowned and landed the second one on her cunt lips. As Jerome and Darren cheered, she repeated the trick three times more.

“Now, girls, you’re gonna get raped,” Jerome announced. “This one’s had it before. The brown one knows all about it in theory and from books, so THIS one (he poked Chrissie’s arse) is the real beginner. Enjoy!

“Start with the beginner, then,” said Elise. She went round the front of their victim , straddled her, sitting on the chair and her neck, and gripped her plump breasts. Darren looked at Jerome, but Jerome returned the look and made an offering hand gesture.

“You go first,” he said.

“Thanks, mate,” said Darren. Better check it out first, he thought, shoving his fingers into the inviting gap. He sensed resistance and so pushed harder, stuffing them as far up as he could. The bitch was pretty dry, but she squirmed, which made the sides move around his fingers. He pushed harder and she whimpered. Then to his surprise she spoke:

“Please don’t do that! I’m a doctor and I know it could do serious damage!”

“Could it? Good!” he said. But he couldn’t push up any further, so he pulled out, sniffed his fingers and offered them to Jerome.

“Beats wine or roses any day, mate!” said Jerome. “Now fuck her – her sister dissed you, remember.”

Darren didn’t need encouragement – in fact, he couldn’t have waited much longer. He’d have liked to have something to hold on to while taking this cunt from the rear, but Elise was already gripping her tits and her hair and shoulders were out of reach. So he just placed his palms on Chrissie’s back and pressed down while his cock pushed in between her lips. She was dry, which made him angry, so he was rough. He pushed her back down in rhythm with his thrusts. That meant her moans came in short bursts. He might have arsefucked her too but he wanted to make sure he had plenty for that bitch Cathy. He pulled out and gave her arse one last good smack. Jerome was giving the fucking of her life to Ihita, shaking her like a rag doll on the end of his cock, and Elise was moving on to Cathy, a giant pink strap-on in her hand. He’d help her and taunt the bitch who had started all this.

He crouched behind the chair where Cathy’s head was trapped and leered into her face.

“Hello, bitch – you’re really going to enjoy this!” he sneered. She just stared back at him with tears in her big eyes. “I wish you could see the whacking great juicy dildo that’s going to get shoved up your cunt!” he added.

“Darren – no, please!” she pleaded. He laughed, spat in one of her eyes and slapped her. He knew exactly when the dildo had been forced in by the sudden jerk and the way her expression changed. He drank her desperation and humiliation like wine. Elise was a strong woman and in no hurry.

But when she finished Jerome was still fucking the Indian girl to a pulp. Unlike Chrissie she was wet, in a way, because tears were dripping down her face at the front and her bush was drowned in a puddle of cum.

At last Jerome pulled out.

“Can’t stand fucking do-gooders,” he said to Darren. “Look at the fucking slut now – not so proud, yeah?

“Too right, mate,” Darren replied. “Fucking interfering bitch!” The rape counsellor was slumped like a dead fish on the table and she still had two to go.

There was no doubt for Darren what the highlight was. That snooty, cold bitch Cathy Lindsay had turned her nose up at him and now he was going to get what he’d wanted from the start, only better because he was raping the slag. He was going to fuck the shit out of her, arse and cunt. He could start by showing her what she was going to get.

“That was just a dildo in you, bitch,” he told her. “Now look at what you turned your nose up at and what you’re going to get up your cunt and arsehole.” In fact his cock, even at maximum size, didn’t compare to Jerome’s, but it was still enough to make Cathy stare with horror in her big eyes. That in turn was too much for Darren and he shot off a sticky stream into her face, sticking shut both eyes. Time to get round the back of her and give it to her where it mattered. He saw the pig Jerome had carved into her arse and laughed. That was her, all right. He got going.

Shit, this was the fuck of fucks, the one he’d been dreaming about, then promising himself. She wasn’t as tight now as he’d have liked, but shit, drilling her was sweet anyway. He got her pulling and wet despite herself and knew she’d be humiliated. Her body was answering to him and not to her pea-sized brain. He was flattening her arsecheeks with each stroke and soon she’d be getting it up the arse too.

Elise had squatted down and was biting Ihita’s tits. The rape counsellor was screaming and wailing in one long mindless stream.

When both men had fucked all three victims, cunt and arse, and Elise had used the strapon wherever she wanted, the rape was over. The three adventurers could dump the victims trussed up in a corner and put those bits of the meal they’d been about to eat that needed re-heating in the microwave. It was a good meal and although Darren didn’t normally think much to wine, he enjoyed it because he’d taken it from Cathy. The sluts could wait.

A white van drove away from the scene, keeping within the speed limits and courteously letting another driver out from a side-street. Trussed up in the back were a hospital doctor, a rape counsellor and a police officer on sick-leave. None of them would ever return to their jobs.

Cathy and Chrissie were sold through the same route as Sylvie Mackay, to stand naked like her in an African market; it amused their owners to display them together, so each could see the other’s humiliation, but they were sold separately. Cathy was bought for a brutal warlord who regularly beat her for the amusement of the troops and Chrissie for a fat chief whose particular kink was sitting on her face until she was on the point of suffocation. Ihana was not as attractive to the African market, but she did get snapped up by a neo-Viking with a big farm in the far north of Sweden and a taste for unusual reindeer. For all three, their new careers were active but quite short.

And PC Julie De la Rue? The far-right gathering did indeed return what Jerome had demanded.

He and Elise had a special room, once the spare bedroom, decorated for special sex. Mounted on the wall, months later, was a fine, polished wooden shield such as might have held a stag’s head in a stately house. Such things were not uncommon in Jerome’s paid work as a taxidermist. Mounted on the shield was a rather large head. It was not a stag or a boar, but a human female, black, with a high forehead, frizzy-haired, thick-lipped, broad-nosed. The big, wide open glass eyes were brown. The mouth was open as if in a scream, showing white teeth in excellent condition.

Jerome often looked at it and remembered every moment from when he’d first spied her huge, gyrating arse, through the instant of realising she was a pig and punching her in the belly, through beating her, fucking her and finally the loving, triumphant work of mounting his trophy.


THE END