tagErotic HorrorThe Freedom Ch. 05

The Freedom Ch. 05

byThe_Maestro_Braddock©

Officer Married, whose nameplate told me was actually Officer Klein, roughly pulled me off the ground and tossed me into the backseat. Behind her, Officer Burly struggled off the pavement, long scratches still oozing blood down his face. I smirked and licked my fingers and nails clean of his gore as Klein went to him and guided him back to the cruiser.

"Just sit down, Fortier, we'll get you fixed up when we get back to the precinct," she assured her partner.

He grunted and slid into the passenger seat. Klein's eyes, wide with concern, narrowed when she spotted me again in the backseat. "Maybe watch command will take a break when we get there...look the other way if you want a minute with her," she offered, voice dripping with condescension and threat.

"Only a minute," I pouted in response, "That's not much time for us to have fun. Certainly you could give him five minutes. Or ten? A girl needs a little foreplay, you know?"

Klein shot me a dirty look and slammed the door. As she walked to the other side, I leaned into the partition and whispered to Fortier, "She doesn't even know, does she?"

Fortier said nothing. I pressed further, "She has no idea how much it hurts you to see her with him. How much better you know you could make her feel."

"What are you talking about?" he mumbled, holding his face.

"I'm talking about how, every day, you come to work, see Officer Klein, and can't help but imagine you two together. And at night, how you grab your dick and stroke it to her Facebook pictures."

As Klein opened her door, Fortier turned slightly and barked back at me, "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Hey, just ignore her!" instructed Klein, smacking the mesh divide with the butt of her nightstick, "Sit the fuck back in your seat."

"Don't worry Officer Klein, your partner and I are just having a little chat about things we wish we could say."

Klein raised her eyebrows in Fortier's direction who only shrugged and avoided her gaze in response.

I pressed on, "Go ahead and tell her Fortier. Let her know."

"Shut up!" he snapped, then groaned, grabbing his face again. He mumbled to himself, "Fresh popcorn. Where is that popcorn?"

"What's going on?" Klein demanded of her partner, voice cracked by concern, "What's she talking about?"

"Oh, Fortier's a little too shy I guess," I teased, "Seems he has a little crush on his partner but doesn't feel like he can tell her."

"Wow...okay," Klein chuckled to herself, "You'll have to do a bit better than that if you want to distract us. Him attracted to me...honestly. Ridiculous."

I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. I could feel The Freedom radiating off me, spilling out of my pores, filling the cab with pheromones. In the front seat, Fortier still clutched his face and groaned quietly. Klein stole concerned glances over to him before finally pulling the car over and grabbing him.

"What is going on?" she demanded, pulling at his hands, "There's no way she got you bad enough for you to be making all that noise.

His hands fell away and she balked at the sight. Not only was it "not that bad," there was no visible scratches there anymore.

"Oh...wait...how? I saw you bleeding before. How are you—"

Klein looked distracted for a moment, visibly sniffing the air, before grabbing the wheel and pulling back into traffic, mumbling, "Swore I smelled french toast for a moment there." It was as though she had completely forgotten what she just saw.

Knowing that his being healed was a sign The Freedom was in his veins, I stepped up my assault.

"Mmmm," I moaned, shifting back and forth to hoist my dress higher on my thighs, "All this sexual tension's getting me hot. I don't suppose either of you would be willing to climb back here and...search me a little more extensively?"

I could practically hear the teeth grinding in the front seat.

"Or at least undo my cuffs so I can address certain needs on my own?" I followed up.

"Will you be quiet?" Klein grunted.

"Sure, sure, I can do that. I will do that, if Officer Fortier here would just nut up and confess his feelings."

"Don't feel well," he mumbled, slumped over in his seat.

"I know, I know," I cooed, "That's cuz you're holding on to so many secrets. Let it go...tell her how you feel."

"I told you, girl, that's not gonna work!" Klein barked, nerves starting to eat at her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but everything felt askew since they picked this crook up. She was anxious, but weirdly horny and every time the chick the backseat opened her mouth, Klein felt like vomiting or fucking, in equal measure. And then there was Fortier. Something about him. Something she saw. She knew she did. But...couldn't remember. What was it again? What...saw...hard to think.

"Klein...bees...bees in my head. Buzzing. Need...need to pullover. Oh....oh...not safe. So...danger."

"Shh...don't scare her," I whispered calmly, "What you have to say is beautiful. Let go of the shame and just tell her.

As I spoke, I worked my headcuffs. See, the thing that you need to know is that almost anyone can escape headcuffs if you can handle the pain of breaking your thumbs. And if you are currently afflicted with a disease/parasite/drug that converts nearly all sensation to pure pleasure, the idea of breaking your thumbs? Well, that's no problem at all, is it? You just need to find a way to do it.

"Klein," he groaned, "Pull over and run. Get help...not...not safe. Gonna...oh god...gonna make you scream, you nasty slut."

Klein was outraged but found herself rooted in place, hands on the wheels, eyes forward. Her entire body felt like weighted down. It seemed as though only her voice was under her control. The rest was frozen.

"Fortier, you better knock that shit off. Not sure what's going on with you, partner, but keep it together. Something's weird here, but we'll be at the station soon. Get rid of the perp in the back and get us some help. Just hold on."

"Tell her," I hissed.

Fortier gulped and thrashed and then spoke in a choked sob that steadily grew stronger and more clarion, "Love you so much, Sheila. So beautiful. Just...want to touch you all the time. Need to touch. I know you want it too."

"Come on, Fortier," she grumbled through gritted teeth, panic etched on her face, "Even if you mean that, now's not the time. Just hold on a few more minutes."

I worked my hands downward, keeping as quiet as I could while stretching every muscle and tendon in my arms and tightening all of them in my legs so I could swing my cuffed hands in front of me. Things popped and groaned throughout my body. I bit my lip hard as tears, hyperextensions, and aches set off tiny explosions of joy in me and then were immediately healed. I wanted to scream out, to tell them how good I felt, how wonderful The Freedom was, but I held back. Better they discover on their own.

Fortier shifted in his seat, releasing his seatbelt and moving closer. He started to speak again, "Can't stand the thought of you going home to him. He can't make you feel like I do. Mmm, Sheila, I'll make you feel so good. Remind you want it feels like to be with a real man."

"What's...what's wrong with your voice?" she muttered haltingly, still basically paralyzed.

"Nothing's wrong with it. I don't you think there is either," he replied, voice now fully filled with slick menace and the implication of dirty, unnatural sex acts, "I can see your nipples through your shirt. So hard. So anxious to catch my eye. You love my voice, don't you? That's what got your tits straining for my touch."

"Stop...Fortier...this isn't you. Isn't us. I'm married. You and my husband bowl together. You guys are great friends. You'd never do this."

"I'm sick of waiting, Sheryl. Waiting for you to catch on. Waiting for you to ditch him. I'm making this happen now."

He roughly pushed his body against hers, affixing his lips immediately to her neck. His hand skillfully opened each of the buttons on her shirt, proceeding with impressive speed. If he was in his right mind, maybe he would've marveled at how his usually clumsy fingers became so adept. Of course, if he was in his right mind, he'd probably know he had never lusted over his partner before now.

Klein groaned and I could see her straining to hold back from arching her back to more fully press her breast into her partner's callused hands. She whimpered to herself she did not want this and that something was wrong with her partner. She repeated it in a loop in her head, a mantra of resistance.

"Eric," she protested, "Stop. Just...hold on. A little while longer."

"Why should he?" I offered from the backseat, "Why should you? What's wrong with pleasure?"

"She's right," he agreed, nipping at her neck, "So stupid of us to hold off for so long. Could've been fucking behind his back for a year at least. Imagine us now, Sheila, making a fool of him. Me taking you in your marriage bed, him oblivious to it at his office. You going down on me while I talk to him about last night's game. Oh god, doesn't it just sound great."

She groaned again, louder this time, and I could tell the idea was in her head.

I jumped on the vulnerability, "Officer Klein, just imagine it. See yourself on your bed, head dropped over the edge, watching your husband barbecuing for all your friends and family while you are naked and spread, Officer Fortier above you. He helps you violate her wedding vows over and over again, just like you want him to. You, moaning, thrashing, urging him to go harder, faster, to make a mockery of the rings you wear."

I watched as she visibly seemed to try and shake what I was saying. Her hands tightened on the wheel, her face blushed, her skin began to prickle with a light mist of sweat. I imagined the images I spoke hanging on her like wet newspaper, clinging to her, enveloping her.

"It's okay," he soothed her, pulling one of her hands off the wheel and pushing it against his pants. Despite herself, I could see her lick her lips and arm move up and down, no doubt stroking her partner.

"God," she exclaimed in a ragged breath, "You're so hard."

"Mmmhmm, keep going, baby," he implored her.

She was sluggish but still resistant, "Can't Eric. Can't. You know that. Ma—married."

He dropped his head down and I could hear his lips affix to her nipple. Klein's head lolled slightly and she gasped in pleasure.

Seeing her so ensnared, I place my hands against the grating and kicked at them again and again. At first, neither reacted. Then, we ran a red light and the loud horn of a truck roused Klein from her sex fugue.

She shoved Fortier face from her breast and screeched, "What the fuck? Get off me! Watch the fucking prisoner, she trying to escape!"

Fortier ignored her protest and was immediately back at her. She tried to fight him with one hand and maintain control of the vehicle with the other. She was doomed to fail.

Fortier slipped past her flailing arm, against thrusting the crotch of his pants against her hand. She bit her lip and visibly grew limper, more pliable. The clicking of teeth being freed from a zipper filled the interior.

"Eric...we can make it...just...hold on," she sobbed.

"I could do that," he taunted, "Or I could make you cum. Your choice, Sheila. Do you want to do your job, honor your marriage, and go on with your life as is? Or do you want me to pleasure you in our dirty little cruiser? To let the perp watch us as you betray your values?"

The car went silent. I watched Fortier hover next to her, breathing hot on her neck. She visibly twitched and twisted, looking for some strength in her depths. Looking, but failing.

In a barely audible whisper, Klein groveled, "Touch me."

"It's hard to hear you over the engine, baby. Tell me your choice again."

"I need your fingers inside me," she begged, "Pleassssssssse...I need to cum so bad."

"Mmmm...I knew I was right about you. Such a bad girl," I mocked her from the backseat.

She only hissed through her teeth in response. I didn't need to see to know what her partner was doing to her. I kicked my hands again, breaking my thumbs. My scream of pain was immediately papered over and reshaped into a delightful shout of pleasure. In the front seat, neither officer paid it any mind, and I shrugged way out of the cuffs just ahead of The Freedom healing my brutalized thumbs.

"Deeper!" Klein demanded as we slid through another red light. Her shout was matched by the sound of screeching tires. A large truck fishtailed across the intersection, going too fast to stop, and slammed into the cruiser, sending it end over end. Metal screamed and twisted, glass shattered. Bones broke and reset almost simultaneously. Shards of windshield and glass made quick-lived slices on my skin. My orgasmic declarations joined with the sounds of the roof dragging and sparking on the blacktop.

We came to rest on several feet from where we began, the air thick with the smell of burnt rubber and fuel. The Freedom cleared my mind immediately and I was scuttling out the open window. In the distance, I saw Fortier peel himself off the road, ejected in the collision. His body looked broken and awkward at first but as he stood, I could see his posture change, his body being healed from the "reward" I had given him when I scratched his face.

Still in the car, the unconverted Klein groaned and spat. "Please...help," she grunted weakly, "Nothing feels right inside me."

I pulled her free through the open window, her wailing in pain with each inch. I did not bother to soothe her or offer her comfort and deposited her unceremoniously on the sidewalk.

"What...what did you do to us?" she pleaded for answers, wheezing from a collapsed lung.

"I gave your partner a gift. Would you like it?" I offered.

"Never," she spat then gasped in agony.

"You are dying Officer. All I'm offering is a life of pleasure, of joy. Would you rather die than have that?"

"What you...oh god, hurts...it's evil."

"Ok...fine. Your choice. At least I'll still be around to comfort your widower."

"Stay away from him!" she managed to shout before collapsing in a hacking cough and spitting up blood.

"Oh, I don't think so," I whispered, placing my face directly above her and placing my hand on her ruined ribs, pressing hard, "By the time I'm done with him, he'll be begging to taste me and have forgotten he ever knew you."

Klein thrashed and screamed as I pressed harder.

"I can't wait to taste his cum. Mmm...I'm going to do everything he always wanted that you wouldn't. You're right. Die. He'll be happier with me anyway. You know, maybe I'll just use him for a few days and then kill him. Would you prefer that? To die pure and let me corrupt and then kill the love of your life?"

"Please....don't," she begged.

"Stop me!" I shot back.

She resisted, her breath becoming thin and thready.

"I get it. You care more about your ethics than your husband's life. Or you do now, anyway. When you partner had his mouth on your tit, I don't remember you being quite so...upright."

"Don't...do this to me."

"Choose. Your morals or your husband's life. Because I will fuck him, I will make him realize what a terrible lay you were. And then, so help me, you fucking prude, then I will end him."

With a growl, she pushed herself upward, mashing her mouth against mine. I tasted the copper finish of her blood, sensed her give herself to "save" her husband, not even realizing that by her yielding to me, she guaranteed he'd be turned before the end of the day, just by her hand, not mine.

I harshly massaged her tits through her bra, making her moan. Underneath my other hand, I could feel bone and tissue stitch itself back together, muscle grow more toned. She whispered a thank you into my ear and then went rigid as The Freedom stole her away and replaced her with a creature of lust. Above us, her partner, the source of her damnation, stood naked from the waist down, impatiently stroking himself.

I stepped aside with a flourish, presenting her to him. He unceremoniously stripped her, with her more than willing help, and thrust into her right on the sidewalk. I strolled away to the sounds of her begging him to help defile everything she once believed in. I paused a moment and scooped their belts off the road, pulling free a firearm and both sets of handcuffs before tossing the leather straps back onto the road. I looked back at them over my shoulder, watching Klein undulate impatiently against her partner, moaning with abandon. There was a moment of temptation to stay, to enjoy the fruits of my labor, but The Freedom moved me along. We had found a more interesting project. The Freedom had a reward in mind for me for all my efforts.

When I was a junior in high school, I had to take chemistry with Ms. Bobbins. As hard a time as I had with Chem in college, it was even worse back then and Ms. Bobbins didn't make it any easier. A sour woman in her earlier 40's with a permanent scowl, she stalked the classroom like a tyrant, snarling at anyone who had the nerve to raise their hand, ask questions, or answer something incorrectly. I finished the year with a "C" but felt like I had an "F."

Needless to say, I hated her.

That summer, I found out more about her life, about a dead fiancée that necessitated a move to our town, about a life significantly derailed. I softened my stance. I still thought she was a lousy teacher, but I had a better understanding. When I later heard she had found a new man and was doing better, I was genuinely happy for her.

Under The Freedom, however, none of the empathy I had for Ms. Bobbins existed. Instead, there was only the anger and a newfound desire to humiliate her. Now, I was in her neighborhood with strange power pulsing in my veins and I was going to fulfill that "dream."

I thumped on the entrance with the flat of my palm and smoothed out my dress while I waited for an answer. As the dark blue door swung open, I affixed a grin on my face, and stowed the pistol in her mailbox to keep it out of view.

Ms. Bobbins' face appeared before me and I was surprised. Although almost five years had passed, she looked younger than I remembered. And not in a surgically enhanced away. Her face seemed less pinched, her coloring more healthy, the style of her haircut and makeup less severe and more flattering. She wore a light blue v-neck shirt and grey skirt, looking at ease with herself and her body. It suited her.

Before I could say a word, recognition cracked her face into a polite, if bit confused, smile.

"Wendy?"

"Hello Ms. Bobbins," I smiled even wider and chirped.

"Oh, I think you can just call me Alice now. You haven't been my student in years, after all."

"Okay, Alice," I said, keeping it cheerful.

"So what brings you by?"

"Oh, just in the neighborhood. Was involved in a bit of an accident and am waiting for AAA," I lied with disinterested.

"Oh no! Are you okay?"

I spun in place, letting her take me in. "What do you think?" I joked.

"Looks like you came out of it just fine," the teacher replied, confusion on her face.

"Well, thank you," I said and curtsied, locking eyes with her and noting the quick dip her eyes made at the skin that was exposed in my deep bend, "Anyway, I was hoping you could put up with me for a bit until they got here."

"Oh...well...love to, but...can't. We're heading out," she stumbled through.

"We?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.

"My husband and I," she offered, looking behind her, perhaps to enlist his help hustling me off.

"Wow...congratulations. That's great news. When did you guys tie the knot?"

"Just over six months ago."

"Ahh, still in the honeymoon phase then," I smirked and winked, "Bet that's...fun."

She blushed in response but offered no response.

"So I can't come in?" I asked again after a moment of awkward silence.

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