The Thin Blue Line vs. the Fat Pink Cock Part 2

 18/25

Detective Ron Cosby slowly woke in the hotel room he had been using to lay low. Two detectives, Chase Hargreaves and Alan Graham had recently gone missing and Chase at least he was sure was the work of the Cleaner. Everyone that looked into the Cleaner ever since the disappearance of Rocky Law three years ago just vanished. Everyone who didn't buy the line that the vigilante was in super max ended up missing and he wasn't about to be another notch on that sadistic maid's bedpost.

“Hello Detective Cosby,” a strong feminine voice snapped him awake. He tried to sit up and couldn't. He realised his arms were secured behind his back and when he tried to cry out in panic, his scream was stifled by a large ball-gag. Rolling over, he saw that the voice was coming from a tape recorder on the hotel room desk. “I want to play a game. For too long, Detective, you have been flapping your gums, talking to anyone who would listen about how the Cleaner was still out there. Well, guess what, Detective? I am. And now it's time to silence those pretty little lips. You have been fitted with a state-of-the-art female bodysuit that will bind to your skin forever in thirty minutes unless you say the magic word. That word is...ooops, I can't say it can I? Well, let's just say it's a part of the male anatomy that also happens to be an old word for a Detective. You will also notice you have been fitted with a few extra toys so I suppose you will need to get someone else to say it. Good luck, Detective. You have thirty minutes.”

Ron gave out a muffled scream of panic and rolled off the bed, falling hard on a pair of large breasts that were tender from some kind of bondage patties. Getting to his feet clumsily, he scrambled to the door and managed to turn the handle with a latex-stockinged leg. He burst through and knocked his head on the door across the hall. A few moments passed and a large shaven haired grunt of a man opened it.

“Well, hello there,” he grinned, “what can I do for you?” Ron felt his fat lips slobbering on the gag . DICK! He had to say dick! Or at least get this goon to say it. He nodded awkwardly towards the man's groin, but all he got was a confused eyebrow raise. In frustration, he fell to his knees and jutted his chin desperately at the guy's crotch. “COCK!?” The man flashed his teeth. “You want my cock! My schlong! My Johnson! My shaft! Oh maiden, you want my mighty sexchalibur?!”

Detective Ron Cosby groaned in exasperation. This was pointless. He backed away from the hungry eyed man and began to stumble down the hall. Like an angel from the heavens, a familiar face appeared. Someone who would understand. Someone who could help. He fell to his knees once more at her mercy, his chest heaving beneath large fleshy globes, so she could remove his gag and he could utter that magic word.

“Aren't you just the perfect little slut, Detective?” Lara Lake felt a dampness in her own panties watching the terrified realisation in the eyes of her former colleague. “You have something to say? Maybe a little later. First let's see what this nice man you've been leading on wants.” In a flash she attached a chain to the collar around her prisoner's neck and began to tug him on his knees back the way he came.