The Freedom Ch. 04

"No, no!" she shouted. "All for you, Wendy. Only for your commands."

"You're wretched."

"Yes...."

"Weak."

"So weak..."

"My slave."

"Yes...please let me be your slave!"

"You can't help yourself, can you?"

"N—no, Wendy. You are too much for me. Please...I am so weak. I need to cum."

"You'll cum when I tell you."

"Oh thank you, thank you," she exalted.

"Touch yourself now, but don't cum until I say so."

I felt her hands slide away from me and then heard the familiar almost wet pop noise of her body stretching to accommodate her fingers. She whimpered, a sound of utter delight.

"God," I groaned, "you're such good slave. I love fucking your tit."

"It's for you."

"It makes me so wet, Christa. It's going to make me cum all over you."

"Yessssss, please."

"Would you like that? Would you like to be soaked in my cum?"

"More than anything," she admitted, the sounds of digit penetration increasing.

"I'm going to do that for you. I'll give you that gift."

"Please," she whispered.

"Oh, oh, oh, so close!" I shouted, pleasure rippling through me, forcing me to fold inward.

"Do it," she begged.

I blindly reached behind me and found her clit. She shouted out nonsense the moment she felt me touch her.

"Cum with me, Christa. Cum with Wendy."

"Oh thank you," she growled in appreciation.

Then talk ceased and only the animal sounds of grunting and howling came. My fingers pinched and dragged across her clit as her's infiltrate her sex with remarkable speed. I bounced and shimmied irregularly over her torso, her sweat and my fluids making her body impossibly slippery.

Sensing my predicament, she let own hand leave her pleasure and find my clit.

"Yes!" I screech, pitching forward. My nipple hit her face and instinctually she wrapped her lips around. A moment later, she bit down.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I bellowed, somehow adding, "Cum now, cum with me."

And we did, in a sweating, writing pile, we came and screamed and came again before collapsing, a tangle of limbs pulsing with exertion, our brains too blown out to command them to stop.

When Christa could speak, she thanked me in a cracked whisper. I wrapped her in my arms and legs and pulled her against me. We kissed, deep, long, and almost gentle. Then I stood.

"I'm taking these clothes," I told her.

She nodded, adding, "Wear the red dress out of here."

I smiled in agreement and slipped the skintight crimson and black tankdress over my head, luxuriating in how the fabric slipped over and down me, hugging me, teasing my still reactive flesh.

"I'm so thirsty," she announced, literally rolling on the floor.

I was as well, as thirsty as I had ever been. I made a note to raid the pharmacy on the first floor for their bottle water supplies.

"I'm going to start with my boss," she announced.

"Good choice," I giggled, "He already stares at you all the time."

"I know, right? Such a dirty old man. Can't wait to see him get the gift."

I kissed her again and she accepted my tongue as though it were a rare delicacy. Then I left, striding past a store of gawkers who had heard the moans and groans from the waiting room. I whistled a happy tune, knowing they'd be like me before they knew. They'd be devotees of The Freedom.

Six gallon jugs of water and a stolen car later, I was back on the road. I sped through traffic, dodging this way and that with ease. The Freedom anticipated everything for me and made sure I was safe. I was its favorite daughter, its chosen one. I could do no wrong, suffer no harm.

Apparently, the police did not get the memo.

Blue and red strobes flashed in the rearview, sirens wooping through the air. I considered gaining it but The Freedom suggested otherwise. I never resisted the idea for a moment.

Two cops walked to the car, their strides wide with the inflated confidence only a badge and gun can give you.

"Do you know why we pulled you over?" the beefy red haired male partner asked, leaning into the window. His partner, short, strong, and dark haired, stood about six feet behind, arms crossing her chest, eyes balefully indifferent. A gold wedding twinkled on her left hand.

"Because you are a puppet of the state?" I fired back.

He smirked back, sarcastic and unamused. "You were—" his eyes went vacant and confused for a moment—"do you smell popcorn?" he asked.

"No, sir," I chirped.

He shook his head, his partner's face registering concern. With a deep breath, he began again, "You were speeding. 85 in a 40 mile zone."

"Well, that's certainly fast isn't?" I replied cheerfully.

"Very fast. You wanna explain why you felt the need to go that fast?"

"I suppose I never really thought about it...I guess it's because I stole this car."

"This is a stolen car?"

"Very stolen, officer. Freshly stolen in fact."

"Get out of the car," he commanded, backing up and putting his hand on his holster.

"I'd really prefer not," I responded, bored.

"Get. Out!" he demanded, unamused.

With a shrug, I popped open the door.

"Slowly!" his partner shouted.

Mockingly, I began to move in slow motion. I made sure they got all my good angles as I slid from the car. Despite himself, Officer Beefy couldn't help but stare a moment.

"We are going to search you now. Do you wish to have my partner do that or me?" Officer Beefy asked.

"Knock yourself out," I offered indifferently, "Be thorough though. I could be hiding a gun anywhere."

"Not funny," he informed me and began to run his hands over me. I giggled in response and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

He began to step away and I called out, "Still didn't find it?"

He had no choice but to search more thoroughly, running his hands all the way my legs this time and discovering my lack of panties. He stepped away as if he had been burned and turned to his partner.

"You need to finish this. I don't need the lawsuit and she's got noth—"

As they distracted each other, I spun off the car and lashed out at him, raking my nails across his face, jagged lines of blood were visible for one moment before he covered his face and crumpled to the ground with a tiny shriek.

I began to climb back into the car when I heard the loud definite click of a gun's hammer.

"On the ground," Officer Married ordered, her voice riddled with the kind of authority her partner couldn't manage, "On the ground or I swear to you I will not hesitate to end you."

With a smile, I fell to my knees and then lay on the ground, watching Officer Beefy in the fetal position near me as I felt the cuffs click on my wrist.