Black Opal Magic

He said, "So. You've got a prospect?"

Lopez said, "Yeah. Out of towner. Speeding. Very rude." He shoved into my shoulder blades. "Needs a lesson."

He yanked on the back of my jacket and the cuffs, hauling me upright, while spinning me around to face the other deputy. I knew that my jacket and blouse were already out of place, and my skirt had hiked up some more. Lopez grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back.

I managed to see his name tag, which read Simpson.

Simpson looked over my head to Lopez. "You search her?"

"Waitin' for you."

Simpson grunted. "Hold her still."

Lopez moved and suddenly his arm was around my neck, his elbow under the point of my chin, dragging my head up and back. He squeezed, briefly, enough to let me know that he'd hold the pressure if he wanted to. Then he let off and shifted behind me. His other hand latched onto the cuffs, yanking my arms back against his body. My back arched and I was off balance. I couldn't see much because of the angle of my head.

I felt hands on me. Patting down each side, taking their time, patting and pressing against my breasts. When I jerked away, Lopez jerked my head again. Simpson went back to mauling my chest, and by the time he was done, my bra was completely exposed, as he pushed the collar of my blouse open and pulled it partly out of my skirt.

He tweaked my nipples, chuckling.

One of them said, "Look at those."

"No shit," said the other one.

Simpson's hands drifted lower. Patting my hips and dragging my skirt up higher. Lopez kicked my feet again, and when I stumbled again, he squeezed my neck. I gasped for air and then Simpson grabbed my thighs and shoved my legs open.

Lopez said, "She's stepped on me at least three times."

"Oh, yeah," said Simpson. "So, speeding, resisting arrest and assault on an officer."

"And evading. She didn't slow down for miles."

Simpson stood, his hand on the hem of my skirt, yanking it up. He leaned over to look in my eyes.

"You're in very bad trouble, miss. Very bad."

I stared at him. He didn't hate me. He wanted to ruin me just as badly as Lopez did. But it wasn't hate. I could feel the need rolling off of him. He needed me to hurt. He needed me to be scared. I sobbed. He grinned.

He squatted down, one hand around the back of my leg, and the other rubbing gently along the front of my vulva. I could feel how wet I was, how the little scrap of fabric that made up the g-string was completely soaked. I could feel it dripping onto my thigh, my cunt begging for one of them to fill it up.

The Simpson said. "Poor thing, she'll need a little help with this cavity search."

I heard him spitting, onto his hand, I guessed, and then the cold air as he yanked my panties down and shoved two fingers into me. My pussy clutched at his fingers, dragging them in. I grunted. He wiggled his fingers around, spreading my inner walls and then pumping his hand a few times.

I whimpered, and it sounded frightened. I sounded terrified, but I was unbelievably horny.

"Please, officer." I begged in a small voice. "Please." I don't know how I would have ended that sentence.

Simpson stood up, snapping one of the strings to my panties and letting them dangle between my legs.

"You're such a slut," he spat. "You're dressed like a fucking whore. You a whore?"

"No. No, sir. No, officer. I'm—"

"Never mind slut. You're our whore now."

"No. Sir. I mean. No. I—"

"He said 'shut up,' bitch," said Lopez.

They started moving, dragging me toward Lopez's car. When they got there, Lopez pushed me toward Simpson, who spun me around and held me by my hair. He yanked up, hard, pulling me onto tiptoe. Lopez was unbuckling his belt and I could see the bulge in his pants even as he tossed the belt with his gun and tools onto his front seat. Then he opened his back door, unfastened his pants and sat down.

"You're going to suck his cock, slut. You're going to suck his cock and you'd better be good. Fucking whore."

Simpson pushed me toward Lopez, who grabbed my hair and pushed down. I had just enough time to open my mouth, and Lopez shoved his prick in as far as it could go.

I was standing next to his car, bent over, unbalanced, and Simpson had hold of the cuffs around my forearms. I gagged, and reared back. I pulled off Lopez, almost falling into Simpson, who shoved me back the other way.

"I said suck."

I tried to look at Lopez. I tried to smile and nod. But he pushed his prick at me again, and I fitted my lips around him. I sucked, and I licked around his head, and I tried to keep my balance as I bobbed my head up and down. I got something of a rhythm going, and managed to take a little more of Lopez's cock in each time. His was probably average length, and a little narrow, long and thin, I guess you'd say. I could tell he'd want to face fuck me. I just wanted a minute to prepare myself.

Because, like a lot of things, I didn't really enjoy blowjobs before this started. This one was going to be messy, I could tell. Lopez was sweaty and hairy, and he had a distinct musk. He kept pushing me down to take more of him in than I was ready for. I realized he wanted me to gag. I felt that sense again, that shift in myself that I was doing something for him, fulfilling his fantasy, every time I gagged and choked a little.

I swallowed around his cock, slipping him deeper into my throat, still trying to use my tongue. He held my head and shoved up with his hips. When I gagged and coughed, I lurched back, bumping into Simpson. I pulled off of Lopez completely, and a huge glop of drool cascaded out of my mouth. I knew my eyes were watering, my makeup was smeared.

I was crying and shaking. I was whimpering. They knew I was terrified. They wanted me to be terrified. But I wasn't. I needed this. In that moment, I needed to be whatever the two of them wanted.

I felt hands moving up my legs, spreading my ass cheeks. Simpson reached forward and dragged the spit off my face and smeared it onto my ass.

"No, no. No, no." I squealed.

Lopez pulled and Simpson shoved, and my face was impaled on Lopez's dick again. He held me down, even as I coughed. He leaned forward and spat, and then Simpson spat, on my ass. Then a finger shoved into my sphincter. I wriggled and jerked, and tried to pull away. Lopez held my head and my arms. Simpson pushed my ass cheeks apart.

Then he spat some more, smeared some more around my asshole. Then something thick and softer than a finger pushed at my ass. I gagged again.

"Fucking take this, bitch," Lopez said.

He held me as Simpson shoved his cock into my ass. He shoved in with minimal preparation. A streak of fire lit up through the middle of me all the way through the pendant and into my mouth.

I puked. I hadn't eaten anything all day, so all that came up was bile and spit. I reared up, jerking out of Lopez's grasp and screamed.

"I'm not done, cunt," Lopez said.

"Please. Omigod. Please, it hurts."

"Good," said Simpson, as he shoved further into me and pushed my face back down into Lopez's lap. There I was, impaled from both ends, getting fucked in the face and the ass at the same time. My body rocked back and forth between the two of them. My ass was on fire, full to bursting, and I couldn't catch a breath. I thought I was going to pass out.

Then Lopez stopped. He pulled my head off of him, and held my shoulders while Simpson moved in and out of me behind. I cried profusely, so hard I could see the tears as they splattered onto the gravel. I shook and whimpered. Simpson moved, back and forth, in small strokes and Lopez spit on to me, giving his friend enough lubrication to really get going.

Then they stood me up. Simpson's cock was deep in my ass, and I could barely get purchase on the ground.

Lopez looked over me again, at Simpson. "I want her cunt."

"Yeah," Simpson said.

His bulky forearms under each of my thighs, Simpson picked me up and Lopez pushed me back so that I leaned on Simpson's chest. He spread my legs and then walked around to the back of Lopez's car.

Simpson leaned back, with my weight resting on his arms, and his cock splitting me in two.

Lopez leaned in, gripping my chin in his hand.

"Look at me, bitch."

I shook my head, squeezed my eyes shut tight. He dug his fingers in until I gasped and opened my eyes. Then he pushed himself into my pussy. I orgasmed, but I don't think either of them realized that. I pulsed around him, and felt myself squirting, even as he started pummeling me with long, fast strokes.

He leaned down more, pinching me between him and Simpson behind me. He fucked hard and fast, staring daggers at me. His hatred filled me with every stroke of his cock. His hatred fueled him. Every tear I shed, every whimper, every shiver, made him feel more powerful, more complete, more justified in whatever dark fantasies he'd harbored his whole life.

In every sense, every pleasurable hatred that boiled off of him filled me too. I felt that power. I felt that sense of invincibility. That sense of righteousness. It was intoxicating. It was glorious. I orgasmed again and again, as he pounded into me, and my body shook. I orgasmed more times than I could count, as Simpson's cock shifted in me with every thrust of Lopez's cock.

I closed my eyes again, drifting off somewhere, just awash in this.

I heard Lopez say, "Good god. I can feel your cock in her ass."

Simpson replied, "Yeah man. I've been tellin' you. Fuckin' slow down a sec."

Lopez slowed down.

"She pass out?" one of them asked.

"Naw. Keep going."

Lopez kept going. Sliding in and out of me smoothly, his rage mostly dissipated. He moved my legs on to his arms, and Simpson started fondling my breasts. He pulled the bra away, rolling my nipples in his fingers in time to Lopez moving in me.

A minute later, Lopez said, "I'm close, man."

There was no response from Simpson, but Lopez started moving faster. Faster and faster, deeper inside me. Then he pulled out almost all the way, and I felt the hot spurts of his cum on my pussy and legs.

Lopez pulled away, stepping back. They let my legs down, and Simpson swung around. He draped me over the trunk of the car, and smeared Lopez's cum up and around my ass. Then he started pounding.

I screamed again. "Ohgod. Ohgodno. Please."

Lopez smacked the back of my head. "Shut up."

"I don't care, bro, no one can hear her out here anyway."

By that point, Simpson was pounding so fast and deep that I couldn't think anyway. All I could do was whimper and whine.

Finally, Simpson grunted hard and his cum joined the mess on my crotch. He pulled out of me, and I cried again. I collapsed against the trunk, shivering, and bleary eyed.

One of them grabbed my arm and half-dragged me around to the open back door. He pushed me in and slammed the door behind him. I laid down on the back seat. My clothes were in complete disarray. My face was covered in drool. My ass and pussy were covered in cum, mine and theirs. I was sore all over. I was elated.

I managed to sit upright in the back of Lopez's car. I shifted around, feeling the slime of their ejaculate and my own drool coating me. My face was covered, my clothes were wet from the fluids, and I could feel more leaking out of me as I moved. I wanted to see myself in his rearview mirror. To see how much of a mess they'd made. To see what I looked like when I was well and truly ruined.

I was physically exhausted, but my mind was racing. I knew it wasn't over. I knew they had something else in mind for me. A coda for the scene to top off their pleasure. I felt the pendant, warm on my breasts, humming. Almost as alive as I felt.

I collapsed against the door, waiting.

Some time later, a sharp crack on the window jolted me upright. Then the door was opened, and Lopez reached in to pull me out. His hand gripped my upper arm tight, sure to leave bruises, and he yanked hard, as though he was trying to cause another stumble.

I managed to keep my feet, glancing up into his steel gray, merciless eyes. My pussy throbbed again. Roughly, he refastened my bra, and tugged the collar of my blouse so that it was somewhat covered. He jerked down my skirt, pushing and pulling so that my clothes almost covered me again.

He led me a few steps to where Simpson stood, relaxed and smiling. I knew I should have been scared again, and I trembled. Simpson reached out with a napkin and started to wipe off my face.

"No," Lopez said. "Leave it."

Simpson dropped the napkin on the ground. I looked in his eyes, and they were almost emotionless.

I babbled, "I'm sorry, sir. Officer. Officers. I'm so sorry. I won't—"

Lopez shook me, turning me to face them both.

"What are you sorry for?" 'Bitch' again, silently.

Simpson had his phone in his hands.

"I'm so sorry. For everything. I promise. I promise I won't tell anyone what... you know... what just happened."

They needed this. Lopez more than Simpson, but they both needed me to play this part too. To allow them their righteousness, to give them a fig leaf's cover of justification. To let them walk away from me without having to name the crimes they'd just committed.

"I'm ok," I said. "I... you know... I needed the lesson, right?"

They looked at each other, pleased, almost convinced that I meant it. They ignored the tears streaming down my face, my shaking body and rattling teeth. They ignored the hoarseness in my voice from the rough use of my throat. They stood up straighter.

Lopez looked at me. "Yeah. And you're going to say all that again." He gestured to Simpson. "We're going to take a little video. So we have proof that you asked for this. That you're just another slut trying to get out of a speeding ticket. Right?"

He shoved and I collapsed onto my knees. He kicked at the hem of my skirt, and I spread my knees wider; as wide as I could without falling over. I straightened my back and cleared my throat. I coughed and spat a huge globule of phlegm and shook my head and cleared my throat again.

Simpson stood near my right side, and Lopez was closer, toward the left but mostly in front of me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and positioned me, leaning back some, looking up at them. When he let go, he glanced over at Simpson, then nodded.

He hooked his thumbs into his belt, and said, "So, miss, what were you asking me?"

"Um. Please, officer, let me make it up to you," I started. I watched his expression and the pedant warmed against my chest and suddenly I knew exactly what to say.

I shifted on the gravel and opened my eyes wide.

"Please, sir. I know I was rude to you. I know I should have been more careful. I was disrespectful, and I was careless, and I could have really hurt someone. And I definitely. Definitely need some consequences for my bad behavior."

I smiled, shaky and small, and listened as the words flowed out of me. I listened as my raspy voice gained some strength, cleared up, and found a rhythm.

I glanced at Simpson, but played to Lopez. He was the audience right now. This was his fantasy. It was the trippiest mindfuck I'd ever been a part of. There I was, on my knees in front of these two cops, who both believed that they'd raped me, pretending to be a scared woman acting like she deserved what she got.

"But, sir," I said, "I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again. I'll be so careful driving. And I'll always be respectful. I promise. I really promise. But," I bit my lower lip and glanced down. Then I looked up at him through my eyelashes. "I just can't afford this ticket. I'm so, so sorry, but I just can't afford it. Isn't there something else I can do? Can't there be something else I can do to let you know how sorry... how grateful I am for the lesson? Let me make it up to you. Let me, please, let me do something for you to show you how much I appreciate you teaching me this lesson..."

I kneeled up, arching my back and pressing my breasts out. I looked right at Lopez's crotch.

I grinned. How I made myself grin, I don't know. But actually, I do know. Because I didn't make myself grin any more than I came up with the words I said.

"Let me suck you off, Officer. Please. I'm really good. You'll really enjoy it. Please. Let me suck your cock, to show you how much..."

I trailed off because Lopez stepped toward me as he was unzipping his fly. He pulled his erection out. I registered Simpson moving to, some subtle change in the light telling me that he was getting a different angle.

"You want to suck this?" Lopez said, holding himself so that his tip brushed my nose.

"Oh, yes. Oh yes, sir. Please."

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Lopez put his tip on my tongue, pressing down. He grabbed the hair on the top of my head with his other hand. I closed my lips around him and swallowed gently. He tightened his grip in my head and twisted slightly.

I looked up at him.

"You really think you can give a three hundred dollar blow job? Because that's what the ticket and the fines would be."

I widened my eyes. I started to nod, instead I opened my mouth and said around his cock, "Please let me try, sir."

Lopez slid his prick slowly out of my mouth. Then he used the tip to smear the congealed drool on my face.

"Him too, slut."

I nodded.

"You suck both of us off. You give both of us the best fucking blow job your slutty fucking mouth is capable of."

I nodded again.

"We're going to fuck your face, slut. You better make it worth it for us."

"Yes sir."

I opened wide, leaning forward to take him into my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and licked his glans, then circled his head a few times. He groaned softly. I glanced up and saw that his eyes were half closed. I closed my lips and suckled softly. I knew he wasn't going to hold back for long. I knew that pretty soon he was going to be ramming his prick into my throat as hard as he wanted. I could feel the desire in him, the rage and the need coalescing.

I bobbed my head up and down, coating him with spit, licking and suckling. I hummed, making myself sound happy to service him. But I heard the shudder in that hum, the fear underneath it. I trembled when he moved, and felt his pleasure increase again. I worked hard, fast, taking as much of him in my mouth as I could, slurping.

He dug his fingers into my scalp, yanking my head to one side. His hips started moving, and soon he was thrusting into me. Into my cheek, deliberately missing his angle to scrape the side of my mouth. I held still, just letting him work, using my mouth like any other hole he might choose. He shoved in hard, and I gagged.

He pulled out just enough for me to cough. Then he shoved back in, pushing far past the back of my mouth, ramming himself into my esophagus.

"Choke on it, bitch."

I heard him say that, but I don't know if he said it out loud.

He wanted me to cough and gag and heave as though I was going to puke. He wanted to make me gasp for air as my eyes watered. And that's what I did. He pummeled my face, gripping my head tight, holding me at his preferred angle. I wasn't a person to him. I was just some soft wet space to fill with his rage.

Every so often, he'd pull out and slap my lips or my cheek with his cock. He'd smear more of my drool all over my face. He'd pull out long enough for me to spit and I could see the long strands of my mucus connecting us. Once he caught a handful of my spit and rubbed it in my hair. Then he went back to fucking my face and I was blinded by my juices and deafened by the squelching sounds of his cock plunging in and out of me.

Finally he jerked out of me and I leaned over, coughing and hacking.

He pulled me upright and when I made eye contact with him, Lopez said, "His turn."

I turned to Simpson and recoiled. I reared back hard enough that Lopez almost lost his grip on me. I was looking at the tip of the largest cock I'd ever seen, in real life or in movies. It was massive. It's not that Simpson's cock was long, though it was. It's that his cock was so thick. The size of a beer can. Or my wrist. So thick that his head didn't bulge over the shaft, but it looked like his shaft came to a point at his glans.