White Slave Cop

  WHITE SLAVE COP

  By

  Dean King

  Copyright © Dean King

  All rights reserved.

  The author has asserted moral rights under sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by Fiction4All

  Imprint: FetishWorld Ebooks

  http://www.a1adultebooks.com

  All characters depicted in this story are over eighteen.

  ONE

  You're so funny Manuel!" Amy giggled.

  "That's me baby. Funny as shit!" he grinned.

  His hand came down to cup her behind and she giggled again and scampered away.

  "Uh Uh Uh,” she laughed, waving her finger at him. He sighed and smiled back, not altogether happily.

  Amy let her eyes open further, playing the part of the dumb blonde to the hilt. She had been playing it for almost a week now, trying to lure Manuel and the people she knew were behind him, into grabbing her.

  She sighed inwardly and adjusted the top of her bikini. It was a thirty six cup, a size too small for her thirty eight inch chest. They hadn't told her police work would be like this when she'd enrolled in the academy four years ago.

  This assignment called for coming on to Manuel. She was supposed to be a dumb blonde bimbo after all. The problem was that a real blonde bimbo would have dropped her panties for Manuel by now, and Amy had no intention of doing that.

  Manuel was used to easy women, and found her holding out somewhat confusing, as well as a challenge. He'd been trying to get her into bed almost since she'd met him, sometimes quite forcefully. If they didn't get him for kidnapping soon they were liable to get him for attempted rape.

  Not that he wasn't absolutely gorgeous, she sighed. Six feet tall, with long dark hair, a muscular physique, and a face that almost made her want to spread her legs whenever he came near.

  Under normal circumstances... But this wasn't. There were a lot of eyes around, and besides it would look pretty bad in court if it turned out she'd screwed the bastard!

  Still she was lucky to make detective so early while most of her classmates were driving around in blue and whites. She hadn't once been assigned to street patrol, her looks had seen to that. Although she'd been nineteen when she'd graduated, she could still pass for sixteen or seventeen and had been sent into high schools posing as a student.

  She'd done very well, though she detested being back in high school so soon after leaving it. But the vice squad needed young looking cops to infiltrate the drug rings that ran rampant in the high schools and couldn't very well use veterans for that.

  This job was a real break. She was out of the high schools, and working for the major case team. Manuel was suspected of being involved in the disappearance of a number of young teenage girls over the last months, all of whom joined his modelling agency shortly before disappearing without a trace.

  The NYPD believed the place was a front for a white slavery ring, and needed a pretty, young looking officer to infiltrate it. Amy had volunteered.

  Even now, a half dozen officers surrounded the Mansion where this little pool party was being held, hoping she'd be grabbed there so they could follow her to Manuel's bosses.

  She was wearing a small locket that was a tracer the police could follow; another one was in her watch. They were taking a chance of course, but they had tried everything else.

  She smiled stupidly as one of Manuel's men walked past her and patted her on the behind. "Bunch of cretins," she muttered to her drink.

  She delayed and wandered around the pool, giving Manuel and his friends every opportunity to kidnap her. Unfortunately, they stubbornly refused. At last she decided they weren't going to bite and called it a day.

  "Well?"

  She looked up at Lieutenant Cooper as their cars met at an intersection several blocks away.

  "Nothing,” She sighed.

  "Shit. What’s with those guys anyway?

  "I don't know sir."

  "Well go home and we'll try again tomorrow."

  "Hey Amy!"

  Her eyes narrowed as she shifted her gaze to Frank Morgan. He held up a camera with a telephoto lens.

  "We got some great pictures of you in your little bikini!" he leered. "We're gonna auction em off later."

  "Up yours Morgan." She glared at him.

  "You two knock it off! You're supposed to be adults,” Cooper said sternly. "We'll see you again tomorrow Amy,” he said.

  She nodded and they drove off in different directions.

  She was mad at herself, for failing to tempt Manuel into grabbing her. This was her big break with the department. She was getting to old to pass as a teenager, and if she didn't manage to make full detective soon, she'd wind up in a patrol car somewhere, breaking up domestic fights.

  She parked the car outside her condo and walked up the stairs to her apartment. She stopped to check her mail, opening it as she walked. Another letter from her Mother! That woman! She called Amy every second day on the phone, and still had to send her a letter every week!

  She couldn't understand why Amy wasn't married to a lawyer and pushing out babies by now. Amy sighed and leafed through the rest of her mail as she unlocked her door. All bills, except for a come on that said she had already won a million dollars, maybe. She snorted and pushed the door closed behind her.

  She flicked on the TV as she passed, then went into her room to change. She donned a pair of black silk pyjamas and then went into the kitchen.

  Normally she'd have made something to eat, but she'd eaten so much at the party she wasn't hungry. She pulled a bottle of spring water from her fridge and then went back into the living room to watch the news.

  She grinned at the image she presented. A real yuppie! She shook her head. It wasn't that long ago she was in danger of being arrested herself. She used to run with a pretty wild bunch, that was always getting into trouble.

  The only trouble she'd been caught for had been a little shoplifting that had been erased from her record when she'd turned eighteen.

  Still, she remembered the wild parties, the drugs and sex, and multicoloured, multi shaped sexual partners she'd had. One time, her mother had come home early from work and found Amy on the living room floor with a couple of boyfriends.

  She'd been on her hands and knees. Johnnie Welsh was kneeling naked behind her, his hot prick sliding in and out of her cunt. Mark Spencer had been in front of her face, cock buried to the balls in her sucking, slurping mouth.

  What a screaming mess that had been. Amy had only just managed to avoid being sent to a convent school in the mid-west, and had been grounded for three months.

  She'd certainly reformed since then.

  An hour later, she was checking the television schedule when the doorbell rang. She looked up in irritation. She didn't feel like visitors just now. She sighed, and got up, moving across the plush rug to the door.

  She opened it a crack, with the chain still on, and peeked out. It was Manuel!

  "Hello Rebecka." He smiled.

  "Manuel! What are you doing here?" she stammered.

  "I got bored and decided to do some work. I thoug
ht I'd come and see you about a modelling assignment for tomorrow."

  "Come come,” he said impatiently, holding up a folder. "This is a major national magazine."

  Amy considered. She wished she had time to call the station, but she'd blow her cover if she didn't let him in at once.

  "Come on in." She smiled, closing the door and pulling the chain off.

  Manuel walked in slowly, looking around at the little apartment. "Very nice,” he commented.

  "Thank you," Amy said.

  Manuel went over to the couch and sat down. "Would you like something to drink?" Amy asked.

  "Yes, a bourbon please if you have it.”

  Amy shook her head.

  "Scotch?" she asked.

  He shrugged and nodded.

  "So what is the shoot?" she asked from the kitchenette.

  "Bathing suits," he called back. "You have a wonderful body, as you reminded me today. I know you will look fabulous."

  "It sounds great!" she said with false enthusiasm, handing him his drink and sitting down next to him.

  He opened the folder. Inside was a magazine devoted almost exclusively to beautiful women in swimsuits.

  She leafed through the pages as Manuel sipped on his drink and watched her.

  "When is the shoot?" she asked.

  "Tomorrow, for a week."

  Uh oh, she thought.

  She scanned the pages in dismay. The swimsuits were for the most part pretty skimpy. Many were thongs, others had little more than g-strings for bottoms. There was a large section of lingerie, most of which was practically, if not entirely see through.

  "Umm... Tomorrow?" she stammered.

  "Yes, we'll go out to a warehouse on Long island. There are backdrops there that will make it appear you are in Hawaii or something.

  "Will I... umm... be wearing these kinds of things?" She pointed at a buxom brunette wearing a nearly invisible teddy, that left nothing to the imagination.

  He nodded. "Partly, as well as the suits."

  "Great! Great!" she gushed, trying to pretend excited, but imaging her pictures with everything hanging out, on display in the stationhouse.

  Then Manuel leaned closer, his arm going around her. He smiled, his eyes narrowing. "You will look wonderful and sexy,” he breathed.

  His hand slid up and down her side, fingers siding lightly across the sides of her breasts.

  "I... I don't know Manuel..,” she murmured.

  His face nuzzled her throat, and he kissed her lightly. His other hand slid up the silken fabric of her leg towards her groin.

  Before she could stop him his hand was between her slightly spread thighs, cupping her crotch through the thin fabric. A shot of electric heat shot up into her body, making her gasp in shock.

  "M... Manuel!" she protested, her hand going down to his, trying to shove it away.

  Her mind, already whirling through possible excuses to get her out of the photo shooting, now reeled from the sudden flaring heat in her loins.

  His other hand was now squeezing her breast, sending waves of rolling sexual turmoil through the blonde's spinning brain.

  His mouth was at her throat, biting, sucking, kissing. His hand rubbed and squeezed at her crotch, sending her guts into a shivering frenzy.

  She should stop him... she had to...

  But her body refused to recognize this. Her head fell back, sending her breasts thrusting out as her body trembled in the throes of sizzling sexual passion.

  "Oh... God... Manuelllllll!" she groaned.

  Her hand, over his was now pushing rather than pulling as she humped her groin up against his fingers. Manuel pulled his hand loose, but only momentarily.

  She felt his fingers slide beneath the elastic waistband of her pants, felt it's dry warmth move down over her abdomen, and onto her cunt, he squeezed his fingers together, making her gasp in pleasure.

  They fell backwards on the couch, Amy's legs spreading of their own volition. That hand! It was doing incredible things to her. Her entire groin blazed and pulsed with sexual need. Spasms swept through her groin, her guts roiling and churning.

  A small part of her mind was yelling, pleading, worrying about the case, about the danger. It was overwhelmed by the sexual flurry enveloping her body.

  Manuel's hands came free, they grabbed the front of her pyjamas top and tore it open, exposing her round swollen breasts and hot hard nipples. His hands gripped her sides under the arms, pulled her chest up to him, to his face.

  She moaned, her eyes closing as his mouth locked around her furiously erect nipple. His lips encircled it and closed, his breath drawing it inward, up into his mouth. His teeth nipped her lightly, then harder.

  He slid off the couch, down on to his knees between her sprawled legs. His mouth sliding downward off her breasts, down her silken belly and over her abdomen. He slid her pants down her legs and off, throwing them into a far corner.

  He eyed her damp warm pussy with hungry eyes, his hands going around her legs, pulling her ass closer to the edge of the couch, shoving her legs up and back. His tongue flicked out. It touched the bottom of her lightly furred pussy slit, then slowly, and firmly pressed into the flesh and moved upward along her slit.

  Amy's breathing was coming fast and furious. Her ass ground writhed on the couch as she sought to push herself up against his face. Her hands went behind her head, stretching, bowing her body up and out as one of Manuel's hands slid up onto her breast again and squeezed.

  Manuel pushed his tongue into her, driving it up into the moistness of her narrow cavity. He scooped out a wad of girl juice, and drank it down. His tongue slid up and down around her slit, not touching the clit, driving her higher and higher without relief.

  Then he seized her clitty between his lips and squeezed, sucking and chewing fiercely. Amy squealed in response, humping against him and crying out in orgasmic release as ecstasy screamed through her belly.

  Her ass bounced up and down as Manuel continued to manipulate the center of her fiery volcano, continued to drive her through a whirling hurricane of rippling climactic sensations.

  Then she collapsed, her mind and body totally spent by the sizzling release of energies. Manuel smiled grimly. He stood up then leaned over. His arms slid around the hapless blonde, under her back and legs, and he lifted her into the air.

  Amy's body hung limp in his arms, as if dead. Her head hanging back, eyes almost closed, mouth open. Only the heaving of her magnificent chest, and the gasping breathing from her mouth showed her to be alive.

  Manuel carried her across the room and into the bedroom. He set her down gently on the bed, then stood back, admiring her beauty with a shake of his head.

  He dropped his jacket onto a chair, pulled his t-shirt up and flung it onto the jacket, then kicked his shoes off and slid his pants down to stand there naked, his thick cock rigid, and straining outward.

  Amy was stretching and sighing, starting to come back down to earth. He didn't give her a chance. He dropped atop her, his groin fitting smoothly against hers, his penis pressed between their bellies.

  His mouth sought hers, locked there. His tongue shot into her mouth, twining with hers. His hands caressed the hot skin of her breasts, squeezing, kneading. He humped against her crotch, sliding his penis upward along her belly. Amy groaned in pleasure.

  His hand held his penis, pressed it's tip against her oozing cunt entrance. Amy's legs spread further in response. Then he entered her, his prong driving down into her body, moving and burrowing through the center of her abdomen. Amy could feel every inch of it moving inside her.

  He hit bottom, pulled back, then pushed forward again. He ground his loins into hers, jabbing his prick around inside her belly. He pulled his ass upward, tearing most of his cockpole free of her sucking depths, then lunged downward, driving back balls deep.

  Amy's arms went around him, her groin humping up to meet him as he began stroking into her. He slapped her arms away, pushing them above her head, holding her wrists there
locked together in one hand

  Then his hands drew hers apart, his fingers interlaced with hers as he jerked her hands widely apart. He pulled his body upward, off her, suspended only by his feet and hands.

  He began thrusting downward, his rigid cock pistoning in and out of her gaping fuck hole. Amy lunged upward, jamming her groin up onto his pole as it drove downward. His balls slapped against her ass as she bent her legs tightly, her feet flat on the bed next to her ass, shoving her crotch upward.

  "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she moaned.

  Her legs swept around him and locked about his back, pulling him downward. Manuel released her hands, grabbed her legs and jerked them up onto his shoulders.

  He pressed forward, shoving her legs back against her chest, her knees touching her ears as he hammered his body down against her, driving his cock down her swampy fuck tunnel.

  He pulled out, his cum soaked prong sliding out of her body, her cuntmouth squeezing closed with an almost audible snap. He held his boated cockhead against her wet slit, then thrust forward, driving it down deep into her body, his hips crashing against her buttocks, making her grunt in pain and pleasure.

  He slid out of her again, poised at her entrance, and then rammed down balls deep. Each time, he showed his total possession of her, each time, his cock held for a second outside her, then slammed down into her silken depths.

  Each new penetration brought a gasp of wonder from the blonde. Each penetration brought a shiver, a trembling of her body that made her limbs twitch uncontrollably

  She came, a long satisfied groan of release coming from her open mouth.

  Manuel thrust into her again, then began stroking, pistoning, pumping his steel hard prick in and out of the hot, spastic, clutching fuckhole between her legs.

  She came again, her eyes rolling back in her head as the flooding sensations tore through her hapless frame.

  Manuel was in a steady, even pace, his tool sliding easily in and out of the girl as his buttocks rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell.