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Message-ID: <44237asstr$1063019407@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: shakespeer2b@yahoo.com (Shakes Peer2B)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 8 Sep 2003 06:42:45 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Speed Trap (FF/m, oral, anal, toys)
Date: Mon,  8 Sep 2003 07:10:07 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Here's a little quickie that popped into my head while I was writing
something else. Let me know if you like it, or if you think it can be
improved.
________________________________
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults.
If you're not both of those, don't read it.  Characters in a FANTASY
don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who
don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die.
You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional characters in
my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try
to do what they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters
here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental,
since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little
imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site.
You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information
intact, but if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and
pissing me off.
_________________________________
Speed Trap (FF/m, oral, anal, toys)
(C)Copyright 2003 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net
(remove 'NONO' from the above address to contact me)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
http://storiesonline.net/  (go to the Author's page under 'S')
________

"I'm sorry Officer!" I said into the glare of the flashlight, "I
didn't realize I was going so fast!"

"License and registration, please" a female voice emanated from behind
the light. That was good!

I handed her the documents and put on my most charming attitude, "I
guess my mind was still on my date tonight!"

"Is this your correct address, Sir?" she waved the license.

"Yes ma'am!"

She checked the picture against my flashlighted face, then noted
something off my license and compared it to my registration.

"Sir," she said officiously, "you were exceeding the speed limit by
twenty-two miles per hour.  I have only two choices here."

'Two?' I thought, 'That's better than one!' then, 'Twenty-two? I
thought I was doing at least thirty over. I'd better get that
speedometer checked!'

I hit the high beams on the charm. "And what might those two choices
be, Officer?"

She still had her official voice on, "I can write you a ticket, and
you can take care of it with the courts, or..."

"'Or' what, Officer?"

"Or my partner and I can pay you a visit when we get off duty, and
teach you the dangers of excessive speed."

As she spoke, she shone the flashlight briefly on the attractive
blonde who stood near the rear of my car, one hand on her sidearm.

'Jackpot!' I thought, 'The old Grayson charm does it again!'

"Well, Officer," I smiled, "as much as I would enjoy interacting with
our fine city's bureaucracy, I think a little private traffic school
might be more effective in preventing future infractions on my part!"

"All right," the flashlight clicked off, "go home and wait for us.
We'll be there in about two and a half hours.  God help you if you
don't answer the door."

I was in a dressing gown and had the lights turned low and a bottle of
Champagne chilling in the bucket when the bell rang.

Much to my delight, the two policewomen still wore their uniforms,
equipment belts and all.  They brushed past me as they entered my pad,
each kissing me lightly on the cheek, and fondling my privates through
the robe.

'This,' I thought, 'could turn out to be a marvelous evening.'

"Can I get you ladies anything?" I asked, ever the gracious host, "I
have Champagne chilled, and the refrigerator is well stocked with hors
d'oeuvres."

The dark-haired one, whose nameplate read 'Sanchez', said, "I'll take
a beer if you've got one."

The blonde, who was slightly taller, but built more for speed than her
partner, said softly, "I'll take a glass of that Champagne."

I got a bottle of Pilsner from the fridge and flipped the top off
before returning to the dimly lit living room. I handed Sanchez her
beer and opened the Champagne, being sure not to let the cork pop. I
wasn't sure how trigger-happy these two might be and didn't want to
find out.

I poured Gallagher, the blonde, a glass, then turned to pour one for
myself.

I never got to the glass.  The bottle was taken from my hand and both
arms were deftly levered behind my back. I felt handcuffs ratcheting
tightly onto my wrists.

This wasn't quite how I had envisioned the evening proceeding, but
hey, I'm an adventurous guy, so I didn't put up a fuss, even when they
pulled my robe down my arms and wrapped the whole thing around my
bound hands.  This left me in essentially the state of undress I had
anticipated, after all, although I had no use of my hands.

I did start to worry a bit when Gallagher asked her partner, "Do you
think we should lube it first?"

"Lube what first?!" I asked, trying to see over my shoulder.

"Never you mind!" Sanchez said as she shoved my face into the mirror
over the sideboard.

OK, this was definitely NOT the scenario I had in mind, but there was
little to be done about it now!

"Yeah, lube it." Sanchez told her partner, "We don't need him going to
the doctor and having to answer a lot of questions."

Sanchez put her head next to mine and whispered, exuding coffee and
spearmint, "My partner's going to fuck your cute little ass with her
baton.  You stay there and take it like a good boy, and maybe we'll
let you get off once or twice before we go. You give us any grief, and
you'll wish you were a eunuch, got me?"

She grabbed my balls and squeezed, just hard enough to emphasize her
point, and I nodded vigorously.

Sanchez stepped sideways, but kept the pressure on my back.  Gallagher
moved up behind me and said, "This is a genuine Monadnock PR24 police
baton, my boy, and before I'm done, the side handle on this little
beauty is gonna be keeping your balls company. If I were you, I'd just
relax and let it happen, 'cause it's going to no matter what you try
to do!"

"Oh, by the way," she whispered, her breath tickling my ear, "you know
what the '24' stands for, don't you?"

When I shook my head, she breathed, "Inches. Twenty-four inches."

While she lubed my cringing rectum with something cold, I prayed that
the 24 inches was the overall length.  I wasn't even sure I could take
the eighteen inches or so that would extend beyond the side handle
even then, but I KNEW I'd never be able to take twenty four without
rupturing something important.

As the cold, blunt end of the stick nudged my anus, I looked down and
was astonished to see my own 'baton' standing at attention!

I didn't have much time to reflect on the 'why's and 'wherefore's of
my erection as Gallagher started vigorously jamming the lubricated rod
up my hershey tunnel.

Do you realize how thick a Monadnock PR24 IS? They don't LOOK all that
thick, because they're so damn LONG, but let me tell you, that was no
pencil that blonde haired cop shoved up my butt!

I weathered the initial entry without too much pain by pushing out as
she pushed in, but I wasn't prepared for her to keep going right
through my colon. THAT HURT!  It felt a little like my last
colonoscopy, but the Monadnock was MUCH bigger, and not nearly as
flexible!

I wailed like a banshee as she drove that pole further and further
into my bowels.  I could feel my guts shifting around to let the
impaled segments straighten out. Gallagher would shove until she met
too much resistance, then she'd back off a few inches and shove again.

OH GOD! I felt like I was sitting on a telephone pole!  Suddenly, I
could empathize with the recipients of the ancient punishment called
impalement - hoisted aloft on a grape-stake driven lengthways through
their torsos (starting - guess where?)!

I screamed like a little girl. Some detached part of me knew what I
sounded like, but the part of me in the here and now didn't care. 
That damned club kept going, and, true to her word, I soon felt the
side handle parting my scrotum as it pressed between my balls.

'Oh, thank God!' I thought, 'That's as far as it can go!'

Boy, was I wrong! Gallagher withdrew the club a few inches and rotated
it 180 degrees. "Let's see if you can take it all!" She rasped.

Oh, Damn! More gut-shifting, hard pushing, twisting, screaming on my
part, and even some grunting from the club wielder, and I felt the
base of the side handle jammed against the top of my butthole.

Panting, Gallagher leaned over my back again. "Look down!" she
whispered harshly.

I did, and was confronted with a mystery for the ages. My cock was
harder than it had been in years!  I used to get hard-ons like that
all the time as teen, before I learned how to charm the pants off
almost any woman.

I don't know when she left but I realized Sanchez was no longer at my
back.  I looked in the mirror and saw her laying on my sofa with her
trousers down and both hands between her legs.

Gallagher, too, was struggling to get her equipment belt and pants
down.

"I'm going to fuck you now, boy!" she breathed.

The blonde police officer pulled my hips back and bent me over the
sideboard until my face rested between the glasses and bottles.  She
stood on tiptoe and straddled the handle of the baton, nestling the
upthrust side handle between her dripping labia. With little effort,
she engulfed the side handle within her yellow haired pussy. Our
heights were different enough that when she stood flat-footed, there
was slight downward pressure on the handle of the nightstick.

Tentatively, at first, then with greater confidence and passion, she
pumped her hips toward mine, then away.  I could only imagine the
sensations the cudgel caused her clit and G-spot. I know the smooth
sliding of the weapon across my prostate and well up into my large
intestine was having a direct effect on my traitorous cock.

Cock hell! Soon my whole body was pushing back to meet my rapists
thrusts! I couldn't believe my flesh would betray me this way!

In and out, faster and faster, the blonde ravaged my colon. It hurt -
God did it hurt! But my unfaithful body started liking it! Every time
that pole slid across my prostate or stirred up my guts, my dick gave
another lurch, and dripped clear fluid onto my carpet.

I soon lost track of my exploration into 'why', and became absorbed
with 'what' as the invading monster stirred up feelings within me that
I didn't even know I was capable of having. The mere idea of a
beautiful blonde policewoman, still wearing her uniform blouse, badge
and all, plowing my helpless ass - with her BATON no less - had me on
the verge of orgasm in less time than it took to write this sentence.

My captor, however, had other ideas. She grabbed my balls and
squeezed; HARD! "Don't even THINK about cumming yet, pussy boy!"

She released some of the pressure but maintained her grip as the speed
of her strokes increased.  Her pelvis flattened my buttocks on every
thrust.  I watched her face in the mirror, as best I could from my
position.  The fierceness of her passion transformed the refined young
lady I had admitted to my apartment into a raging beast.  Lost in the
sensations the knobby handle evoked from her pussy, she jackhammered
my ass, driving toward her own climax.

"Yeah!" she shouted, accompanied by her partner's moans, "Take my
cock, you pussy!  Open your ass and take your fucking like a man!"

Now my mouth joined in my body's betrayal, "Fuck me, Officer
Gallagher! Fuck your big cock right through me! Fuck me harder!"

Neither of us could believe I had surrendered so completely. 
Gallagher's eyes flew open and a feral grin spread across her face. 
Her hips slammed my pelvis against the edge of the sideboard, and I
thought my neck would break from the awkward angle as my head bent
against the mirrored wall. Three, four, five times she blasted into
me, then stood rigid, her pubic hair glued to my ass, as she quivered
and shrieked through her orgasm. My dick, bent sideways against the
front of the cabinet, spewed it's treacherous release all over the
cabinet and carpet.  My knees gave out, and I hung from the sideboard
and Officer Gallagher's Monadnock PR24 as my rectum squeezed it's
barrel and my glands emptied my body of fluids.

We lay there panting like dogs after a chase, until she croaked into
my ear, "You LIKED that, huh, pussy boy!"

"No, Officer," (pant, pant), "not me! But I guess my body must have!"

Gallagher chuckled as she lifted herself off my back, and without
ceremony, pulled the full length of the baton from my quivering colon,
triggering a last little spurt from my deflating member.

"How 'bout it, partner" she asked the brunette, who seemed to be
coming down from her own pleasure peak, "want a crack at this sweet
boy's ass?"

"Yeah," Sanchez answered, "but I'm not using no Baton.  Those damn
things are too expensive to be getting shit all over them!"

Gallagher laughed, "Hey, it washes off!"

"Yeah, maybe," the dark haired cop answered, "but the smell doesn't
and we have to ride around together in that damn cruiser with the
windows up so the wind don't mess up your hair! Nah, I've got
something in the car, just be a sec!"

She struggled back into her trousers, leaving the equipment belt on
the coffee table.

"Well, then, boy," Gallagher said, removing her shoes and uniform
pants, "you and I can get to know each other better 'til she gets
back!"

She sat in one of my overstuffed chairs and threw her bare legs over
the armrests.  Pointing to the gaping swamp of her pussy, she ordered,
"Get over here and put your tongue to work!"

I got awkwardly to my knees in front of her chair, and bent to do her
bidding.  Now I was more in my element.  I've been a pussy hound for
years, and have always loved cunnilingus, perhaps more for the way it
lets me manipulate the recipient than anything else, but I did love
it, and I set to work with gusto.

I lapped gently at the creases between labia and clit, testing her
sensitivity.  Getting only a tentative response, I tongued her
clitoris directly.  This got a bit more reaction, but still not what I
was looking for.  I delved into her gaping tunnel, scooping out some
of the feminine fluids I found there, and got a bit of a moan.  Taking
the bud of her clit between my lips, I sucked, licked, and rolled it
around my lips.

"Oh yeah, baby!" Gallagher cooed, "I see you've done this before! Eat
me good, pussy boy!"

I heard the front door open and close as I took the blonde's erect
nubbin between my teeth and nibbled at it with short, sharp bites.

"Aaahhh! You got it boy! Harder! Yeah! Like that! OOOHHH!"

She started humping my face as I felt her partner's presence behind
me, and something large and round pressed against my still gaping
anus.

Sanchez was, if anything, rougher than her partner.  Whatever she was
pushing into me was really wide and she wasted no time in plunging it
to the hilt in my abused rectum.  It didn't go in quite as far as the
baton, but damn it was thick! I thought the Monadnock had stretched me
but this thing felt like a fist plowing up my chute, except it was the
same width all the way!

Sanchez leaned over my back, and I could feel the bare pillows of her
breasts on my shoulder blades, her hard nipples digging deliciously
into my flesh.

"Here's a REAL cock for you, pussy boy!" she breathed, "I'm gonna be
busy here for a while, so you better get back to work there!"

Not leaving my response to chance, Gallagher took a couple of handfuls
of my hair and stuffed my face back into her sodden gash.

"Eat me good, boy!" she said "My partner and I survived a hell of a
firefight today, and we need to let off a little steam!"

Sanchez was stroking long, slow, and deep, and my traitorous body was
enjoying the hell out of it.  I grabbed Gallagher's clit with my teeth
and shook it like a dog with a toy. She wailed like a banshee and
came, pouring fluid all over the seat of my chair.  No matter, it was
good leather and would clean right up.

I raised my head and told the blonde, "I could do even better with my
hands free."

She and Sanchez exchanged looks, and the next thing I knew, the robe
was being unwound from my arms and I felt the cuffs click loose.

"Don't get any ideas, pussy boy," Sanchez growled, "This dildo's not
the only weapon I've got back here!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Officer Sanchez!" I was serious. Besides the
fact that I believed her, my mind had by then joined my body in
cooperating with my ravishment.

I tugged at Gallagher's thighs and got her to slide lower on the
chair, tilting her pelvis skyward.  The middle finger of my left hand
slithered deep into her tunnel as I resumed my oral ministrations. 
Pulling that finger out, I replaced it with two fingers from my right
hand, and plunged the previous one palm deep into her ass.

"Watch it there, boy!" she warned, but didn't try to pull away.

I turned my right hand palm up and sought the little textured patch of
flesh that marked her G-spot.  Instead of fucking her with the finger
in her ass, I sent it exploring, seeking out those secret little
places inside her rectum that would start her quivering and her
sphincter nibbling at my finger.

I was concentrating on working my magic on Gallagher, but I couldn't
exactly ignore the enormous cudgel that Sanchez kept stroking into my
guts, nor the soft flesh of her tits on my back.  My cock was hard and
dripping, and when she reached around and tweaked my nipples, it
slapped me in the belly. Damn! These women were making me crazy!

Gallagher was off in never-never land, cumming almost continuously as
I chewed on her clit and manipulated her pussy and rectum. She would
start off moaning gutturally, then her voice would rise to a shriek as
she almost pulled out handfuls of my hair.

Finally, the blonde had had enough, and with a final shrill
exclamation, she passed out.

Since it did no good to keep licking her, I was finally able to
concentrate fully on my fucking, and a hell of a fucking it was!
Sanchez was on her feet now, knees bent, levering her pelvis hard and
fast against my buttocks as her enormous cock bumped across my
prostate and charged through my colon, pushing everything else out of
the way.

The dark haired cop grabbed my hipbones and pulled me back against her
slam-fucking pelvis. Wham! Wham! Wham! Suddenly she froze, fully
embedded in my ass, and ground her pelvis against my buttocks.  The
embedded end of the rod circled within my guts, shoving things out of
the way and rolling across my prostate.

I couldn't help it. I didn't come, I geysered! My rapist quivered at
my ass, strangely silent in her ecstasy, her hips vibrating like a
taut rubber band.  I made up for her lack of sound by bellowing like a
charging bull as my vision narrowed to a pinpoint, then blinked out
altogether.

When I came to, the two police officers were in the final stages of
getting dressed.  I struggled to my feet and found my robe.

"So, Mr. Grayson," Sanchez asked officiously "will we ever have to
stop you for speeding again?"

"That depends, Officer." I answered.

"On what?" This from Gallagher.

"On whether you think I need more 'traffic school', or not!"

"Oh, you will, pussy boy!" Sanchez laughed, "But you don't have to
speed to get it - we know where you live!"

I still date other women, and I still charm the pants off of them, but
every once in a while, Officers Sanchez and Gallagher show up to give
me another driving lesson.  If I'm with someone else, she leaves -
unless she wants to attend traffic school too!
-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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