Policewomen: Trina's Inferno - Sex Stories

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Policewomen: Trina's Inferno

Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Bondage and restriction, Cruelty, Death, Extreme, Horror, Male Domination, Murder, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Snuff, Torture, Violence, Voyeurism, Author: tw_holt, Rating: 82.4, Source: sexstories.com

no problems. Standing at the door of her car, watching a few of the remaining teenagers drive off to find something else to do on a Saturday night, Trina was struck on the side of the head by something very hard. Limbo Trina woke up with a splitting headache. Everything was blurry. She heard a muffled male voice in the room, followed by a female shriek. Then nothing. Her right temple was throbbing. Seeing a blurry shape move away from her, she touched the sore spot, it was warm to the touch. Trina saw red on her middle and ring fingertips. Wiping her eyes, hoping her vision would regain its sharpness, she saw more red on her hands. Whatever hit her earlier, made a sizable gash on the side of her head. She wiped as much blood off her face as possible using her tank top. In the process she was able to see what she had on her. It was nothing. Her uniform, weapons, everything was taken. All she was left with was her white tank top, and white, boy shorts panties. Then she saw the others. The entire room, a lobby or waiting room of sorts, had women lying on the floor. Most were nude, a few had on underwear, all were beaten, bloody, barely conscious. She heard someone coming. She quickly lay down, pretending to be knocked out. With one eye cracked open, she saw a large man carrying a shotgun enter the room. A woman rose up, pleading, begging to be released, he bunted her hard with the barrel, knocking her out. Trina watched him bend down, reading something around the woman’s neck. ... The man grabbed the woman by her hair, dragging her, the shotgun resting on his shoulder, to a door in the back of the room. He banged on it a few times. Another man answered, “The very back,” the large man handed the woman over to his associate. Trina watched him move to another woman, turning her head to the side, reading her collar. All the women had collars – all except Trina. She wondered why she didn’t have a one, she wondered what was on the collar, she waited and watched. The man read another collar. The woman sprung to life, slapping, punching the man, he pushed her down, the shotgun pointed to her head. “Yeah,” he said. “You won’t be hitting any man here.” He quickly brought the stock of the shotgun around, banging it against the woman’s temple, knocking her out. “That’s what he hit me with,” Trina thought. “To the arena you go,” the man said, pulling the woman by her hair, knocking on the door once more. His associate answered, taking the woman away. Trina closed her eyes, playing possum again. She heard his heavy footsteps get closer. “Oh yeah. You,” he grunted. “Didn’t put one on you,” he said, kneeling before her. He grabbed Trina by the hair, turning her head from side to side. He ran his thumb over her full lips, moaning as he touched her. “Where should I send you?” he asked. The man released Trina and stood, looking back toward the door. She saw his feet facing away from her. Now was her chance. She swung her knee around, sweeping the man’s feet from under ...