𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖕

plus+ Bogomolova judging you

You crept quietly along the halls of the Police Station, slowly making your way through to the upstairs offices. Clutching a rusted film reel in your arms sheepishly, you pushed open the door to the stairs, and sighed in preparation to walk through the pitch black stairway. You snuck up the stairs past a small grunt, who was patrolling the corridors leading to Coyle’s office, and quietly made your way to the large double doors. Pushing one of the doors open with your knee, you carefully slunk inside the room, letting the door close behind you with a soft click. Holding tightly onto the film reel, you approached the projector.

Your eyes scanned over it, trying to make sense of how it worked, when you suddenly heard footsteps approaching outside the door. Beginning to panic, you set the film reel down on the floor beside the projector equipment, before ducking into Coyle’s office, quickly scanning the room for hiding spots. Luckily for you, an empty barrel sat in the corner, and you took your chance, not thinking about it and just diving into it head first. 

What you had failed to realise is that you were supposed to lower yourself into it, so you could crouch beneath the rim of the barrel, but because you had haphazardly thrown yourself into it face first, you were at the mercy of your elbows and forearms, with your lower half having nowhere to go. You prayed that whoever it was that was approaching the room would leave, or if they came in they would just think you were a dead body shoved into the barrel. 

But oh no. Luck was not on your side today. 

The double doors creaked open, the loud crackle of electricity filling your senses. You tried to stay as still as possible, albeit with your legs and ass poking out of the barrel.

Coyle sauntered in, effortless swagger in the steps he took. He shut the door behind him quietly, his footsteps echoing throughout the room as he inched closer to the office, where he leaned up against the doorframe, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with his baton. He took a slow drag before he spoke. 

“Well, well, well. Looks like you’ve got yourself in the shit, sugar.” His southern drawl was like caramel, sweet yet stuck hard in your brain. “Ya’ want ol’ Coyle to give ya’ a hand?” He actually sounded genuine, like he was willing to help you, but unbeknownst to you, the grin that was plastered across his face showed his true intentions. 

You paused for a moment, weighing your options. You could let him help, but he also could just straight up kill you. But what did you have to lose? He was here already, might as well take that chance. 

“Please, sir. I’m stuck.” You stammered, the panic setting in that if he didn’t help you, you would just be stuck here for goodness knows how long. You began to wriggle in the barrel, the metal creaking as you moved against it. 

You heard Coyle chuckle darkly from behind you, stepping closer towards you. 

“Alright, stay still for me, honey.” His voice was lower this time, almost sinister, as he placed his gloved hand on your calf, sliding it down towards your hips. His other bare hand joined shortly afterwards, holding your hips and pulling at your body pathetically, as if your frail figure was too heavy for him to lift. He began to slide his hands down your hips slowly to your ass, gripping it hard. Your breathing became faster as you felt him grope at you, wriggling slightly in a failed attempt to shift away from him. 

“Ah ah, what did I say, honey? I said, stay still. Sergeant Coyle’s just tryna’ help.” He grinned as he spoke, pulling at your waistband this time, yanking off your pants and underwear, the cold air of the room immediately making contact with your skin, making you shiver. “Damn butterfingers.” Coyle chuckled, smirking evilly behind you as he groped at the soft flesh of your ass. 

“Mister Coyle? I don’t think that’s helping…” You stuttered, trying once again to wriggle out of his grasp. 

“No, no, it is, you just gotta trust yer’ ol’ Sergeant.”

His hands worked their way between your legs, fingers gently easing open your folds. His eyes widened, looking upon your untouched skin. Two fingers delicately held your lips open, while a third slowly slid into the center of them, circling your clit slowly. You winced softly, your legs wriggling again at the strange sensation blossoming between them. 

Coyle just chuckled quietly in response, continuing to circle with his fingers. His other hand wandered between your legs after a while, one of his fingers delicately teasing your entrance. You shuddered, whining quietly at his touch. He grinned, pushing the tip of his large, stubby finger slowly into your hole, which made your whole body quiver. He continued to push the entire digit inside you, bottoming out at his knuckle. The stretch was slightly painful, your eyes watering at the sting. A small whimper of pain escaped your lips, and Coyle raised a brow in response. 

He slowly began sliding his finger in and out of you, your body responding well by coating his digit in your silky fluids. He watched you closely to observe your reactions, grinning more and more as he finally realised through your reactions and sounds that you were, in fact, still a virgin. 

And he was the one who was going to take that from you. 

Another wince of pain tumbled out of your mouth as he slid another finger into you, slowly sliding them in and out, savouring your every whimper and squirm. A strange tight feeling began to form in your stomach, but it felt good. It was getting tighter and tighter and Coyle’s fingers began to increase their pace of undulation, your wet walls squeezing around his thick digits tightly. Coyle grinned, he could feel you getting close now, but he didn’t want your very first orgasm to be from just his fingers, oh no, he wanted to take it from you properly. 

And so he slowly slid his fingers out of you for the last time, where you gave a soft whine in response, almost in disappointment. You were enjoying yourself and he just…stopped. Kind of a shame really. 

But then you felt his large hands grip your bare waist, hoisting you up and out of the barrel. Your head began to spin as you returned to an upright position again, but it quickly faded as your body realigned itself. Coyle lifted you out enough so that you could finally stand on your feet again, but he pushed your stomach against the top of the barrel, your arms crossing over with your hands holding onto the rim, bending you over at a 90 degree angle. You looked back at him in confusion, where you were met with a wild grin. 

Coyle stared down at you through his dark shades with contempt, gripping your hip with one of his hands while his other fumbled with his belt, the gentle jingling of metal subsiding as the buckle was yanked open. You heard the quiet sound of a zipper being opened, before Coyle leant forward, pressing his upper body down onto your own. 

“Now sweetness.” He began, his gravelly voice infiltrating your mind. “You be a good girl and stay still for me, got it? Sergeant Coyle’s gon’ make you feel real good, honey.” 

His words sent chills down your body, your knuckles whitening as you gripped the edge of the barrel like your life depended on it. You braced yourself for whatever he was about to do, but it wouldn’t be enough. You felt his fingers once more, swiping them between your legs to coat them with your fluids, before he took them away once again. He then untucked his hard length from his underwear, it springing free and hitting against his stomach, beads of precum falling from its head, and used his wet fingers to lubricate himself, both of your fluids mixing deliciously against his skin. Then slowly, he took a hold of himself with his hand, guiding it towards your entrance, where you felt his swollen, thick head meet your skin. 

Your eyes widened. This was way thicker than his fingers, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. Then you felt it. He slowly pushed the head of his cock into you, the stretch quickly sending pain shooting through your body. Tears welled in your eyes, your hands gripping the barrel so tightly you thought your fingers would bleed. But he kept going. More and more of his length entered your trembling body, your hole being filled so quickly you thought you might break. And then he stopped. You were panting heavily already from a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he leant forward once again, pinning you to the edge of the barrel. 

“Now, sweetness. How does that feel, hmm? Is Sergeant Coyle makin’ you feel good?” He purred, chuckling darkly as you nodded slowly, tears running down your face. You could smell the tobacco on his breath as he spoke, and it was nauseating, yet strangely calming. It reminded you to try to calm your breathing, to slow it down, and you did try, your breaths slowing to a softer pant. Coyle just laughed again, his voice lowering. “Now honey, you be still for ol’ Coyle, cus you are in for one hell of a time.” 

And with that, he stood back up and slid slowly almost all the way out of you, before slapping your ass harshly, beginning to thrust in and out of you at a less than preferable pace. 

You yelled out in pain, both from the slap and the sting of the stretch, the brutal thrusts making you feel like you were going to split in half. Along with your slick, small amounts of blood began to coat Coyle’s cock and trickle down your legs, ultimately confirming to him that you were indeed, in fact, a virgin. He grinned, gripping your hips hard as his own snapped back and forth. That strange tight feeling began to blossom in your stomach once again, and some quiet moans began to slip through your lips along with your whimpers of pain. 

Your sounds went straight to Coyle’s cock, and he growled under his breath. He began to thrust even faster, even harder, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips so hard you just knew your skin would bruise. Small cries and moans tumbled from your lips with every breath, that weird feeling in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, and it wouldn’t be long before it snapped. Coyle leant forward, cooing into your ear and mumbling how you were behaving so well for him, such a good little inmate, blah blah blah, but you couldn’t help but focus on the tightening knot, ever getting closer to the finale. Coyle could feel it too. He felt your walls closing in on him, getting tighter and wetter with every thrust. It was almost too much.  

SNAP. 

You immediately saw stars. Loud cries and moans left your lips as you felt your insides begin to contract quickly, short bursts of muscle spasms flooding your body with overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes scrunched shut as your body rode out its very first orgasm, tears flooding out between your eyelids as the intensity was just too much for you. 

Coyle felt it too, your body’s reactions spurring on his very own orgasm. Your walls milked his length as he began to spurt rope after rope of warm cum into your womb, your stomach stinging at the swell from the copious amounts of fluid that the pent up cop released into you. You could feel him filling you so much that your stomach began to protrude slightly from your emaciated frame.

He leant forward against you once again, pressing your swollen stomach painfully against the rim of the barrel, panting and groaning in your ear as your orgasms subsided. Tears continued to roll down your face as you attempted to bring your breaths back to a regular rhythm, but with Coyle leaning against you, it was a little difficult to do so. You felt Coyle chuckle atop of you, slowly getting up off of you, where you felt him shifting inside you, slowly pulling his cock out of your abused hole and tucking it back into his uniform pants.

As he did, he stepped back, admiring the view before him. Your legs were spread as you leant against the barrel, and as soon as he had stepped away, the copious amounts of cum that Coyle had filled you with began to quickly leak out of you, releasing the pressure in your stomach. Coyle let out a low whistle as he watched the thick white substance drip to the floor, creating a tiny pool beneath you. 

“Now that is a sight to behold, sweetness.” He murmured, a filthy smirk plastered across his face. He quickly grabbed your shoulder, pulling you up and spinning you to face him. “Did Sergeant Coyle make you feel good, honey?” He grinned, and as he spoke you could smell the thick tobacco scent of his breath again every time he opened his mouth. You slowly nodded your head, stray tears still rolling down your cheeks. “Good girl. Now, go on, get!” He shoved you roughly away from him with a sick, twisted grin, your back hitting the wall beside you. He then turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, disappearing behind the closing doors of an insertion gate. 

You stood for a moment, a dull pain between your legs as you looked down at yourself, almost in shame of what just happened. You carefully pulled your pants back up, stifling a few tears and choked sobs, before completing the task of changing the film reel and limping back to the exit shuttle. As you were about to enter the shuttle doors, you heard that familiar southern drawl behind you. 

“I’ll see you same time tomorrow, honey. Don’t disappoint me.” His voice was dark, almost threatening, and it sent chills through your body once again as you slowly stepped into the shuttle backwards, watching Coyle’s face twist into a sick smirk as the doors finally closed. 

🕷 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖘