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From: punchinello@pulperotica.com (Punchinello)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 21 Feb 2003 21:18:53 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Angel of Vice (MF, nc, rape) Pulp Story!
Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2003 01:10:03 -0500
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ANGEL OF VICE

Carla Salvano knew that enticing Johns up to a hotel room was a dirty
and dangerous job, but somebody had to do it.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by sexually
explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading now. This
material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes without the
consent of the author.

Find more pulp stories and cover art at http://www.pulperotica.com


Angel of Vice

(MF, nc, rape)
By: Punchinello


Chicago, 1951

"You like this music?" the girl asked.

"It's okay," John said.

"Keeps the neighbors from complainin'," she explained. She was
pretty--a lot prettier than most whores--and had a firm ass from
walking the streets every night. He like her hair too, coiled up and
cared for--half-respectable.

"Take off your clothes," he said.

She turned around and leaned against the dresser where the phonograph
was. "Now, now, John," she chided. "We haven't talked about
you-know-what."

"Look, lady--" He sat on the bed.

"Call me Lois." She didn't say it was her name. She began unbuttoning
her blouse, gazing up at him coyly. She had sweet lips--full, red lips
that she let her pink tongue peek through sometimes.

"Well, Lois, you take off your blouse and let me see them ta-tas, and
I'll think of what I want."

"Lois" smiled. She seemed to enjoy this more than other hookers. She
let her blouse fall open and uncover her white brassiere, pushing up a
big pair of beasts. "You like?"

John smiled. His dick was starting to stir now. He stood up again.
"Yeah. That's nice. Let's see 'em."

Lois let the blouse slip off her shoulders and tossed in on the chair
next to the dresser. "That's all the further I go for now." She
started to move toward the window.

"Stay away from the window," John said.

"What?" The girl froze.

"Don't go near the window. Somebody might be lookin'." John took off
his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt.

The hooker seemed confused. "Yeah, but-- I gotta draw the shade. You
don't want anybody to--"

John shrugged and tossed his shirt aside. He had a manly
chest--probably did some lifting. "So go ahead."

Now she see seemed more confused. "Well-- How much-- I mean-- What
about the-- you know....?"

John suddenly got a hold on his balls. "What are you talkin' about?
Come over here," he said suspiciously. "Lois" tried to stay calm as
she went to him. "You're not a lady cop, are you?" he asked in a low
and very serious tone.

The hooker tried to back off. "What? No," she said.

"Take off your clothes," he challenged.

Officer Carla Salvano knew that this was a key moment. If she could
get his trust back, the John would offer her the money, and she could
arrest him for soliciting prostitution. But if she couldn't, he'd get
wise and scram--or worse, take a poke at her before her backup could
get there. And they'd never know to come at all if she didn't lower
that window shade.

It was okay. She liked the danger. It was why she had become a cop.

"Lois" took a step back and reach around behind her to unclasp her
bra. She let it slip off sensually, keeping her eyes on John. He was
all eyes, taking it all in, getting a good look. Carla had great tits,
big and pointed, with long nipples and large areolas. And she didn't
mind showing them off--to the right guy. But she'd never shown them to
a John before. She'd never had to. They always talked money as soon as
she dropped her blouse.

"Jesus, those are nice titties," John said.

"Not so fast--" Lois reminded him.

John got serious again. "Why don't you just ask me?" he asked. "'Cause
that's entrapment, you know--if you was a cop."

"How do I know you aren't a cop?" Lois challenged. "The second I ask
you for you-know-what, you slap the cuffs on me." She even held her
wrists out like he could cuff her. Her tits stuck out over them like
melons. They made his dick hard for sure.

"You take it all off first," he said, adjusting his dick in his pants.

The girl smiled and started to take off her skirt. She kicked off her
shoes at the same time and stood before him in drawers and stockings.
Her heart was pounding and her body was starting to respond in ways
she didn't want to admit to. She could feel a dampness in her panties;
maybe she liked danger more than she realized. She had to get to the
window and lower the shade. But she needed the John to offer her the
money first. "Take off your pants," she said boldly. "I wanna see what
I'll be gettin'."

John had already kicked off his shoes. He dropped his pants and sat on
the bed in his shorts and socks. His prick was a thick bulge in his
shorts. "You've got a nice body, Johnny boy," Lois said with a smile,
coming to him. "I think I'm gonna enjoy this. But business comes
first."

He took her by the hand and pulled her close--closer than she wanted.
Her big tits pressed against his bare chest. His cock was thick and
hard against her belly. His breath warmed her ear. "I  got ten bucks
for a screw and another ten if you suck it later. You suck dicks?" he
asked hopefully.

That was all she needed. "You bet I do," Lois smiled, and tried to
pull away. But John held onto her, one hand on her wrist and one hand
gently kneading her nice, round ass.

"Forget the window," he said. "Take off your panties." He pulled his
dick through the fly of his shorts. It was nice, dark, fleshy
rod--big, but not too big. Carla's body double-crossed her; her pussy
swelled and her mouth began to water. She'd hardly ever been this far
with a nice guy before, let alone a John on the job; she couldn't
believe she was getting hot and bothered over this lowlife--this
strong, good-looking, knows-what-he-wants lowlife.

John pulled her on top of him on the bed and began groping her
nearly-naked body. She tried to get a hold of herself and got up on
her hands and knees over him to reach for the nightstand by the bed.
That put her tits right over his face. "Let's get a little safety
precaution," she said. She reached into the drawer just as John pulled
down her panties.

"I don't like rubbers," he said, and began sucking on her dangling tit
as he squeezed the globes of her ass in both hands. Carla's heart was
pounding like she couldn't believe as she pushed the rubbers aside and
got a grip on her service revolver and badge.

"This is the kind of protection I'm talkin' about, asshole," she
growled. And she pointed the .38 at his temple.

"Oh shit," he gasped in mid-suck. "Oh fuck! You fucking bitch!" Carla
rolled off of him onto the floor and held the gun on him as she pulled
up her panties. She hoped he couldn't tell that her dark bush was
moist.

She held her badge out like a crucifix to a vampire. "You are under
arrest for soliciting a prostitute," she said. Her breath was heavy.
Her heart was still pounding, her tits heaving.

"You fucking cop! You're a fucking cop!"

"Don't move," Carla said, going to the window. "You are under arrest."
But she never got there. Like lightning, the John clipped her from
behind, leaping off the end of the bed and throwing her against the
wall. A little picture frame fell onto the dresser and knocked the
needle off the record with a screech. They fell on the floor, the John
on top, huffing and puffing. The gun was under the chair.

"Fuckin' cop, eh?" he said.

"Yeah," Carla said. "And you goin' to jail for a long time for
assaulting a police officer. Assault and battery, resisting
arrest...."

"Shutup!" John barked. "I can't believe they're hirin' girls now to do
their fucking dirty work." He pinned her firmly under him. He tits
lolled to the side, still sticky and glistening with his saliva. "The
window, eh? Is that your signal?"

"Go to hell," she said without confidence.

"That's your little game, right? You lower the shade and the real cops
come runnin' in? But only after you get me to offer you money, right?"

"Ten points for you, John. You move to the sucker round."

"How many other guys you do this do? Huh? How many?" He banged her
arms against the floor.

"A bunch. I don't know. Ten maybe. Twelve." It was twenty-seven. She'd
been given a letter of appreciation from the chief of police. She was
the first woman officer to do field duty in the Vice Squad.

John reached under the chair for the gun. Carla struggled again, but
it was no use. He pulled her up, gun to her head and forced her on the
bed. "Now take off those panties again," he said lasciviously.

He stroked his cock into full erection again as Carla slowly peeled
her drawers down over her ass and thighs. They slid down her smooth
legs to puddle around her feet. "You are not going to get away with
this," she warned him.

"Shutup," he said, groping for her badge. "Carla Salvano. Officer
Carla Salvano. Shit. A fuckin' wop to boot." He tossed his on dresser
by the phonograph and came towards her.

"Don't," she began to whimper. "Please don't. I don't wanna-- Oh,
shit, please." She backed away, frightened and vulnerable, naked
except for her thigh-high stockings.

John pushed her onto the bed. "I'm gonna get what I want now," he said
ominously. "And it ain't gonna cost me a dime." He pushed his shorts
down over his hips, exposing a rock-hard dick jutting out like a
spear. He held the gun casually, but ready. Carla's heart pounded
furiously.

"You never fuck those guys you arrest, do you? You're like a fuckin'
tease." He crawled on top of her, pressing her legs apart with his
knees. His eyes roamed her naked body. "You're not a whore at all."

"No," she said timidly, playing for mercy.

"Well, you're gonna be a whore for me," he said, grabbing her face
roughly. "You're gonna take everything I got, and you're gonna like
it." She whimpered softly and gasped as he squeezed her tit.

His cock was pressing against her vagina, sliding up and down against
it as he moved his hips, preparing for penetration. "Please don't do
this," she begged. "Please."

But that only made it all the sweeter when he pressed the head of his
cock into her vulva and slid it slowly inside her. Her pussy was still
moist from her earlier, barely-controlled desire. John forced his
manhood deep while Carla whimpered, legs spread too far apart,
shoulder hurting from the struggle.

John grunted and gasped as he fucked her. His dick slid in and out,
filling her up like few men had before. "Please stop," she begged. But
her body was betraying her again. With her own gun pointed at her
head, Carla found the danger sending a thrill through her straight to
her pussy. It was suddenly hot and eager, wet with her lust. Maybe she
could fool him into thinking she liked it. "Fuck, oh, fuck, please,"
she moaned.

John pumped her harder, fucking her with everything he had. This cop's
twat was taking it all and liking it! He slammed his dick inside,
pulled back hard, and slammed it in again. "Oh FUCK!" she groaned.
"Oh!"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah," John huffed. "Take it, bitch. You take it all." His
hips thrust again and again. Carla's hips responded uncontrollably,
rocking back and forth in counter rhythm, forcing his dick inside her
even further and hard with each stroke.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Carla groaned like she was loving it. "Oh, please.
Oh! OH!" She told herself she was only humoring him, but her body was
in charge now, every muscle tense and eager, her hands on his naked
ass, pulling him into her, her pussy wet and messy with eagerness.

John pushed again and again, watching her gorgeous tits rocking back
and forth as he banged her, watching her face as she lost control. Her
closed eyes flashed open suddenly. "Fuck me like a man!" she begged.
"Oh please rape me! Rape my pussy!"

John's balls welled up and shot a blast of hot semen through his dick
and into Carla's warm twat. She felt the heavy load spurting into her,
and it made her lose the last bit of self-control she had. Her hips
thrust upward, her tits heaved, her face twisted into an orgasmic mask
of pain and pleasure. Ecstasy coursed through her, made her whole body
tremble, made her squeeze his legs with her thighs, made her cunt
seize with spasms, milking his balls of every drop of come. The
pleasure was exquisite; the shame immediate.

John caught his breath after a few seconds and shifted above her. His
dick was still inside her, still thick and stiff. "Now--" he gasped,
"Now you're gonna suck it."

"Yeah," she said. But the second he turned away to roll off her, Carla
busted him in the eye with a hard right hook that almost took him out.
She snatched the gun out of his hand and rolled off the bed to her
feet. John rushed her, but she made the window first, snapping the
shade off its mount and making it crash to the floor. He shoved her
into the wall, but Carla gave him a kick and jammed the revolver into
his face.

"Don't move, you son of a bitch, or I'll plug you, so help me."

The John covered his dick and looked all around like a caged animal.
When Carla glanced out the window, he jumped at her, hands straight
out like claws. Carla pulled the trigger and saw him stagger, pain
flashing across his face. She fired again, putting two neat holes in
his chest like a paper target.

The John fell, crawled a foot, just touching her, and groaned like
death. His blood oozed out onto the rug.

Carla stood over the body for a moment before realizing she should
cover herself. She stepped over the John and looked around for her
panties, but they were nowhere to be found.

Just that moment, heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. The door to the
apartment burst open, parts of the door frame splintering off like
shrapnel. Two Vice cops stood in the doorway, guns drawn, badges
flashing in the dim lamplight.

Officer Carla stood frozen, looked at them dumbly, brushed the hair
off her forehead.

"Jesus H.," Cordevan muttered. Other people from the building appeared
behind them, straining for a look inside, muttering about her state of
undress, her smoking revolver--they couldn't see the corpse.

She wiped at the moisture on her breasts and found it was the John's
blood--spattered on her from four feet away. She wiped at her thigh
likewise and found that it wasn't blood; it was his semen, warm and
dripping from her pussy.

"Get those people out of here," Cordevan barked. He took off his wet
raincoat and put it around Carla. Tears began to stream from her
blood-shot eyes.

"We wondered what was takin' so long," remarked Black, looking at the
John's crumpled body.  "Two in the chest," he said. "You paid the
bastard back good." The two men helped her sit down and wipe away her
tears; nobody suggested calling for an ambulance.

They were good men, but they would tell this story downtown to the
other fellows. Being unmarried and friendly to the boys, Carla already
had a bit of a reputation among the other cops. None of them would
never look at her the same way again.


Find more pulp stories and cover art at http://www.pulperotica.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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