Sarah's Joy

Or was that her voice?

He was driving back into her, her body arched painfully, His hips in firm and fluid control of her. "God," she wailed, her eyelids fluttering. "Take me." She had no idea who she was talking to anymore: her world was nothing but His cock, plundering her. Tears and spit sprinkled the pillow under her face. It felt like He was going to tear her arms from their sockets, and in that moment she couldn't have cared less, the pain sharpening the pleasure. Prolonging it. Her clit shrieked.

"You know I will," He vowed, and then He was wrenching her back and up, His dick never, ever stopping, releasing her arms only to wrap His around her body. She heard herself scream, exhilarated, cumming swiftly and without any shame, and then she was fully His: He was enfolding her desperate, heaving body, one hairy arm across her chest and the other locked around her neck, His voice grating in her ear as He kept pushing into her. "My bitch," he rumbled.

"Your bitch," she wailed, the cry cut short as He tightened His arm, moving her orgasm to new heights. He was fucking up into her now, His spit flying against the side of her face, His hands and arm and cock mauling her body inside and out, and Sarah was a ragged husk of herself, waiting for Him.

"I'm going to cum in you now, Sarah Joy," He grated. "You've earned it," and if there was any possible reply, she couldn't give it; He'd robbed her breath as He'd robbed everything else, every part of her a wasted empty desert yearning for Him to fill it back up. "Mine," He rasped, one more, time, with force as His body stiffened behind her, arching hard, hers limp like a clipped marionette above, and she knew He was filling her.

Full. Overfull.

He twitched inside, crazily, her body buffeted by the flexing tension in His arms, and she slumped against Him: His, in a way more profound than she could ever explain. But the only person she'd ever want to explain it to was behind her, cumming in her body, and He already knew.

"Sarah Joy," He whispered, softer now, and one last thrust drove Him ever further inside, the two of them whole, and then He was collapsing onto His side with her bruised body held tightly, the bed creaking underneath. She heaved a deep, pure breath when He loosened His hold on her neck, His hands still skillful, gentle now, stroking her body even as the very last of His cum shot into her pussy in a weakening stream.

Perfection. His smell was everywhere, His body wrapped around her, His marks all over her body. Her hand flapped weakly behind her, reaching back for Him, holding Him to her. "Don't," she began, and then her voice choked off into a sob; it wasn't important though, she realized.

He already knew everything she could ever tell Him, and she nestled back against His skin with the smile carved deep into her face, the tears flowing freely again onto His encircling arms.

She was there again, the feelings never far away.

* * *

"You know I don't want to, Sir." She was trying not to sound whiny, but despite His absolution she was mortified. "It hurts me."

"I know." His finger on her cheek was gentle. "But you must. You're useless to me in jail." He chuckled. "Now obey." He did something to the GPS device then, a twist of His fingers, and into the charged silence at the tail-end of the night Sarah's radio crackled from where her clothes lay piled beside her.

"Five-seven, Dispatch. Another GPS alert. 553 North Fifteenth Street. Over."

He nodded down at her on her knees, giving permission, and she thumbed the mic. "Five-seven. I'm half a block away. I'll be there in one minute, over." She glanced over at Him. "What'd you do to trigger the malfunction, Sir?"

"I looked it up on the internet," He smirked. "Don't worry about it." The radio squealed.

"Roger." Static. "It's reading like one of those false alarms, five-seven. Probably just needs another maintenance key. Out."

They waited, naked in the dark, searching each other's faces, until He nodded once more. Sighing heavily, Sarah sat up on the mattress, leaned down over His leg, and slid the heavy nylon cuff of the GPS monitor up onto His ankle. The maintenance key slid, turned, clicked, and Sarah knew that all would now show up perfectly on Lt Jaeckels' monitor back at Dispatch. He patted her cheek. "Well done, Sarah Joy. We do what we have to."

His praise took effect as it always had, melting her into the sheets, her mind screaming at her to leave her life behind and come live with Him again. She knew, though, looking one more time into those piercing eyes of His, that that wasn't an option; it wasn't what He wanted, and above all other things she accepted that what He wanted was the most important thing in her universe.

Which made her wonder why, as she looked unhappily at the little green LED that showed the ankle monitor's battery status, she felt like such a failure again. She knew she should feel guilty, lying to Him when he'd asked her afterward, while the tears flowed and her body trembled, if she were on the Pill. But she wasn't sorry.