1. A MILLION DOLLARS A FUCK-PART2


    Date: 9/4/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: cyrano, Rating: 82.4, Source: sexstories.com

    INTERROGATION The police station sparkled like a new veneer. Emaculately kept grounds framed a modern, freshly painted building. Without the sign out front it could have been mistaken for a tony private school. It was a beautiful fascade wrapped around the rot and decay society wanted kept hidden and buried. Ushered through the glass doors, Brendan was greeted with an odor that was distinctly jailhouse. Lysol and bleach were losing their battle against the caked on grime of the street. Trace smells of stale vomit and urine lightly drifted in the poorly circulating air. Dingy walls and sterile decor were doing their best to suck the life out of soul and spirit. No wonder cops were always angry, Brendan thought. They worked out of a public toilet. Brendan was quickly marched over and shackled to a bench. Business was slow; he was the only customer on the long empty row. He started preparing himself for the holding cell - the worst part of the jailing experience. He had a long and uncomfortable night ahead of him. He and the other flotsam from the streets were going to share a crowded cell before being shipped off to the county jail in the morning. The unholy smell announced his presence before Brendan saw him. An officer was leading him over to to be shackled next to Brendan. His pores reeked of vile and unspeakable acts. Revulsion swirled in Brendan's stomach warning him of what was coming, triggering a full blown panic attack. "Officer. You can't sit him next to me." Brendan ...
    meant for it to be a plea but it sounded more like a commmand. "There's no preferred seating here, sugar," the jowly middle-aged cop said wearily. "No. You don't understand - " "Is there going to be a problem here?" The cop said it in a monotone so icy that Brendan knew not to utter another word. A smile turned up the corners of his new seatmate's mouth as the officer turned to leave. Brendan started squirming, pulling away from him even as he felt the cuffs bite into his wrist. "Officer!" He yelled at the retreating cop who didn't break stride. "Somebody get me out of here!" he shouted as his seatmate pulled a snarling puppy from his waist length coat. "Get me out of here!" Brendan was flailing like a fish in the bottom of a boat as the man hit the puppy twice in the head with his fist before unzipping his fly. "AAAAAAAH!" Brendan yelled at the top of his lungs, desperately trying to drown out the yelps of the mongrel being brutally raped. A swarm of uniforms appeared out of nowhere and pounced on Brendan, cutting off his air. A leather mask was forced over his face and the metal cuffs were replaced by plastic restraints. He was hogtied before he knew it and was being physically carried somewhere. Finally he was dropped belly down on the concrete floor of a nearly barren room furnished with only a card table and a couple of folding chairs. Brendan didn't know how long he lay there alone. He was too busy fighting to breathe through the mask to account for time. He heard the ...
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