Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Okay, trigger warning: Yeah, if you can be triggered, this one should do
it. Also, [Bracked] text is redacted.  No children though, {I need a break
from that shit anyway.} ~"Mandy."

   Undercover {MMM/M Rape Cops}

   "Probert?" He grinned.

   "Yessir." He didn't shave, and you don't breathalyze your partner on
your first undercover.  His hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes locked
on the road, and he didn't slurr any words.

   "Huh!" It stank too, I could smell it over the booze, so I lit a cigar.
You want a mint, or something, buddy?

   "First undercover case?"

   He just drove the unmarked around while he briefed me.  It's still a
cluster of ongoing investigations, but the parties are mostly
gangs-to-mobsters, so they use Initials a lot too.  Midwestern state, flat,
surrounded by farmland, but urban.  A lot of urban "Country" too, like me,
I don't wear cowboy boots on the off hours, but for this case I wasn't in
uniform anyway.

   "So, the basic idea is both rival factions think they have corrupt cops,
and turn in their competition, because they don't volunteer as informants,
because nobody does."

   "Why not?"

   "Because both sides are competing to see who can make more of an
example." I'd seen the crime scenes, on the news, and back at the office,
the old office, we don't report in person for the purpose of concealing the
investigation, "You don't mind me asking, why'd you transfer to Vice?"

   "Because I believe you handle the worst crimes."

   "Didn't you come over from sex-crimes, and kidnapping?"

   "Yeah, I burned out a little, but that's where I ran into some
sex-slavery, and forced prostitution.  Rape is bad enough, but you deal
with organizations that kidnap, and rape on a mass scale."

   He shrugged, "And you dealt with the Feds a lot."

   "I suppose," The river is right there, and across it another state, not
to mention being on a major east-west corridor, so a lot of smuggling come
through too.  Our department mostly assisted the feebs when it was sex
trafficking, and/or childporn.

   "Well," he patted my shoulder without even looking, "You got a good
recommendation, everyone in your old station calls you a hero-cop."

   "We did a lot of good, but after a while it was like bailing with a
teaspoon."

   "Like bailing hay?"

   "No, a boat like a canoe.  With a hole in it, the water pours in faster
then you can shovel it out." With a teaspoon.

   "Well," he rubbed my shoulder, "We're in the same boat." By the river,
under some highway, not far from one of the bridges, but low smalltown
buildings.  With security gates, and bars over the shop windows, nothing
was open, "Here we go."

   Not deserted, however it was all women, and they're all standing around,
dressed like prostitutes.  He rolled down the window, but one of the girls
came out to meet us.

   "You guys lonely tonight?" It was still warm, and muggy, but it doesn't
even get chilly, we're wearing jackets, so we could clip on our guns,
badges, cuff-holders, and suchlike.  All I had was my phone clipped to my
belt, and a tactical knife clipped to my pocket.

   She was wearing a thin leopard print robe, that she pulled the belt
loose so it swung open walking to the car.  And panties, no bra, so her
dark breasts almost hang out, leaning over the window like a carhop.

   "Call T," he shook his head, "Tell him we're coming up." She pulled a
walkie talkie out of her purse while he pulled up, and put it in reverse to
back into an alley, then parked and turned it off.

   "Got a holdout?" I shook my head, "Here," he reached under the dash, and
unlocked the pistol safe by feel, tossed a revolver in my lap.  "Nobody
comes here unarmed."

   A snub-nose with a taped handle, I checked the serial number, or saw
where it was polished off.  The rest of it blued, but shiny in the ragged
patch where it was redacted.  "They'll take it from you, but they expect
to. Going in there unarmed is suspicious." I'll remember that.  .38
wadcutters, target load, I snapped it shut.  Hopefully won't need to shoot
it, just a drop piece, but I'd busted enough men like the one I'm
portraying, so I tucked it in back, and dropped my jacket over it.

   "Hmmmm..."

   "What're you doing?"

   "Getting into character."

   "Like an actor?"

   "Yeah." What's it to you?  I took some classes, wanted to be an actor,
fireman, soldier, but I thought Acting would let me play any of those
action roles.  I just never got that far, and besides, I can do more real
good as a cop.  I pulled the ballcap on, and remembered an old country
song. A redneck, in the big city looking for some big city action.  He
knows where the hookers are, take out my matches to chew on one, leave the
expensive cigars in the glovebox.  Locked, with our badge holders, cuffs...

   Big black guy met us at the door, he didn't even have to knock.

   "Sup?"

   "New probie," He reached behind my back, and patted my shoulder, "Wants
to get in on the action."

   "[T.] says cum right up." No lock on the outside, but a push-bar on the
inside, and a bolt.  Security door, SWAT would probably have to blow it,
without enough room for a battering ram in the alley.  I looked back at the
unmarked, and crossed myself when the big doorman led us up the stairs.  3
flights, top floor, NW corner, overlooking the street where I spotted the
fire escape on the way in, so I get my bearings.  Possible way out.

   The bouncer patted my back, felt it, and pulled it out with the bottom
of my jacket.  Didn't touch it, just dropped it in a bag, and chucked his
head.  "You shoe's untied," He bent down, but there was 8 more guys in the
hallway.  Not together, up and down it, one in the corner where it turned,
watching the stairs, with an AK-74 SMU.  None of them blocking eachother's
line of sight.

   He pulled another gun out of the sock holster, with the bag like doggy
do, and searched us again to be sure.  Didn't take my knife, nor my phone.
"Aite, g'wan in."

   Pimps, 3 of them.  And, 6, 7 girls, varying from hooker dress to naked,
one of them blowing one of the pimps.

   "He look likea cop."

   "Army," I pulled off my cap, and rubbed the back of my head, "Just got
out."

   My partner smiled, and nodded, then shrugged.

   "Yeah, but he's on the take, or he will be as soon as he's part of the
club."

   "Fuck off," The pimp kicked the girl off, and got up, fixing his belt.
Didn't pull up his pants, but he could probably smuggle a girl in each leg,
or conceal a sawed-off shotgun.  The girls left, and when I looked back, my
partner winked, and closed the door.

   "This you?" He held up the snub nose, and checked the cylinder.  They're
all armed, taking out mostly Glocks, and a Sig, but just set them on a
table in the corner.  "We gotta little inish'ation for pigs like you." He
grabbed my head, but held the muzzle to the side of it, and his boys
grabbed my belt.  I felt my knife, hear the clip snap pulling off my
pocket, and he unlocked it without looking.  Standard issue, assisted open,
it snapped out, and he tapped it on my cheek.  "You ever got gangbanged
befo'?"

   "No!" I clenched my fists, and my eyes, but I couldn't turn away.  My
head was frozen between the gun, and the edge of the flat angled tip. 
"HhHhH!"

   Falls {MF Pros Sade Asph}

   "Ahhh!" Love gaspers, let the belt go slack, so she can gasp and cough,
she spasms around me, but I'm already going soft, crawling back into the
rubber, so I pull the buckle, and give her ass a good slap with the end.

   "Thanks, bitch." Push her down, and slip it back through the loops. 
Give her a good slap to the face before I pull the rubber off, but she so
black you can't even see the shit on it.

   "Uh!" Punch her tit, but she falls back, fingers still plunging in and
out of her.  "Huh!  HUH!" I hold her throat, and she's looking up at me,
staring until her eyes go shut, and I let her breathe while she cums.  Fix
my pants, and go see if the bruthas is done probing the probee.  "Hehahuh!"
Better wash my hands too, should've worn gloves.

   "Cummon," I helped him down the stairs.

   He was shaking, still in shock.  "They," tears squeezed out of his eyes,
they're still raping him, he'd keep reliving it for days.

   "Sex gang." Duh.  "They're blues, but it's still blood in, blood out. 
You bleeding any?" Literally Gangrape.  I was the first to break through
that way, but they don't call me a hero cop.  We have to keep it down,
though, I'm sure I'll be commended for it later, when we're done.

   "I don't know."

   "I'll check you out when we get back to the safehouse." Got some
medicine there, so we don't have to go to a hospital.  That can blow our
cover too.  Only the higher-ups even know, but if we bust them, then we
have to deal with their replacements, without a working relationship.  It's
a complex investigation, and I'd have to write out too much to explain the
need for such strategy and tactics.  But trust me on this, it's the only
way to do it, because it's the only thing that works.

   "You understand the victim's any better now?" I laughed, and patted his
back, but he shrunk away.  I rubbed his shoulder anyway.  "I didn't, until
my initiation.  Huh!  You'll heal, I know it hurts now, but I got something
for the pain." Down at the car, I got the donut pillow out from under the
seat.

   "You knew," he looked betrayed, "And you didn't even warn me!?"

   "If I do, then you might blow our cover."

   "What cover, they know we're cops!"

   "Keep it down!" The girls are across the street, I held his face, over
the headrest.  "You don't just yell shit likeat in this neighborhood." He
looked scared.  "I know you're hurt right now, but if you wanna die, at
least don't get me killed to, and destroy everything we've worked 4 years
for.  Got it?"

   He nodded, "Good," I leaned over to shut his door.  "Now, let me get you
home, patch you up, and debrief you.  We need to send in a report, but
since you're new, I'll show you how to write them."

   Probee {MM Anal Trig NS}

   "There," he pulled on gloves, "Sat feel better?"

   "What is it?"

   "Novocaine," in a greasy gell.  "That feel good?"

   "It doesn't hurt any more," I couldn't even feel his hand any more.

   "You like it?" I turned over, winced, and pulled my pants up.

   "I'm not gay," and that was starting to feel.  Well, not my aching
rectum, but te way he said it, even if I couldn't feel it.

   ;) "Me neither, but that wasn't homosexual." He sat down.

   "Well, it felt a little awkward."

   "Huh!" he got out his pack.  So, I grabbed my cigar and matches from my
jacket.  "You're gang-raped."

   Open my eyes, before the matches burn my fingers.  He looked at me, so I
just puffed it, and shook them out.  More than long enough for the sulfur
to burn off.

   "Sorry, but denial doesn't help.  Look, it's a necessary evil, but I
went through it, and there's a lot of guys in on this investigation.  Women
too, it's the only way in.  Now," he took a drag, "Rape isn't sex, and
sometimes it's not about sex at all."

   "It's about Power," said that myself countless times, to victims, but. I
guess I got some smoke in my eyes.

   "It's all right.  Go ahead and cry, I won't tell anyone.  It helps, you
can't deal with it, and fight it at the same time." He handed me the box of
tissue.  You understand victims any better now?

   "Uhuhuhuhuh!" Fuck!  I haven't cried likeat since I was a boy!  But it
was so evil!  Necessary or not, the way they, they enjoyed it, but it
wasn't like sex, at all.

   "Yeh!" they slapped eachothers asses "Fuck dat pig!"

   "Uh!"

   "Sall right," he went to to bathroom door, "Let it out, but unless you
need me."

   "No," squeal piggy, he even grunt like a pig.  "I think I'd rather be
alone."

   So, he took a shower.  I couldn't, he told me the medicine'll rinse off,
so I have to wait till it all soaks in.  And I don't want to feel it, it
hurts, but worse than the pain is remembering them, their hands, and I even
stopped paying attention to the gun.  I felt it at the back of my head,
bumping up and down, but all I could hear was screaming, and

   "You all right?" He was wet.

   "No!" I pushed him off.

   And hairy, but he had a towel on.  "Snap out of it," he clapped, "Stop,
stop it's over." He shook me, and it took a while to realize I was back in
the apartment, but some neighbor turned up their hip-hop.  "Damn, man.  Let
me get some pants on, you wanna drink?"

   "I don't drink."

   He poured me a shot, anyway.  Brought back a bottle of coke from the
kitchen.  "Here," it shook in my hands.  "It helps a little."

   "Gah!" I coughed, and chugged down the coke.

   He mixed me one, "Not too strong?"

   "A little," but I didn't feel as bad.

   "Here," he topped it off with more coke.  In his uniform pants, he
didn't pull on any shorts, but it's a 1 room apartment.  With a kitchen,
and a bathroom, more like an extended stay hotel "Suite" but in a cheap
shitty apartment building.  Liquer store on the ground floor.

   Well, I didn't drink.  6 years, personal best, but.  "Huhhhh!" I blinked
slow, then passed out on the couch.

   Lurker {CM Poss...}

   He flashed back to the rape, but took the tacklebox out from under the
sink.  Turned on the cold water, but lubed up on the bathmat, and grabbed
the big dildo.  I just watched, no he's not gay, this is Victim Rehearsal.
His hand felt numb, the finger he had in the probie.  Without the glove,
but the drug works on his nerves, I felt everything.

   I sniffed it, licked it off, and swirled it in my spit to settle in the
bottom of my mouth.  Yup, he's infected.  The probie, he bled a little, but
wasn't split bad enough to stitch it up.

   "Nice and loose," he whispered, "Loosened up by all that gang-banger
cock." Shivering, his tongue a little numb, but I could still taste the
genophages.  "Huh!" A pearl milked out.  It keeps him from getting hard
too, but I had to tell him those weren't his screams coming from the living
room.  Butt, he'd already turned on the hot water, and was about to douche
before the probie flashed back.

   Probee, hehaha!  I read his jacket, AA, sponsored some other guys on the
force, but ethanol is simple enough to synthesize, so he can smell it on
his breath, and I don't get drunk.  I just feel the buzz in my body.

   Rum, and coke, good rum, my body likes daqueries and shit, believe it or
not.  Hides it, but that's what it's all about.  He's from SVU, so he knows
the mantra about power, but that's not all rapists.  This is about
Asserting Power, even a straight man feels more like a man fucking a man
like a man.  Abomination, I believe they call it, and Proby boy's a
goddamned Catholic!  What it's really about is manning up, dominating, and
beating down lesser men.  "Me, fuck you." Literally.

   But you have to break a mind to control it.  He's still too willful.  My
body, I made him a narcissist, so he assumes he's in control.  It was all
his ideas, "The lesser of evils" like infiltrating the Massai{Masai.}
Bloods, I didn't spel it, and the Double Diamond Cripps, which I swear were
into Amway before I shewed up.

   But then he showed up, tried to get inside, break us up.  So we broke
him, I took him, made him Mine, and told him it was all his idea.  He still
thinks he's an unsung hero cop, and now I got this here redneck probie to
do it all over again.  Prostitution gangs is easily the best place to pass
out disease, but the Vice cops are even better, because they can rape on
the side, and get away with.  I lied, I never pick the lesser evil.

   I love Catholic boys, though, and he's passing out.  Mixed his own rum,
and coke, stronger and stronger, just stopped topping it off with coke all
on his own.  Beer's in the fridge for in the morning, but I can get hard
again, now that he can't see it.

   Probert {MM NS.  M Solo Anal Trig Gang Rape Mnem.}

   "Uh?" I woke up on the floor.

   "Yeah?" At least his phone stopped making that noise.

   My head hurt, but.  {Butt...} Wow, that novocaine is some powerful shit!
I was still numb?  "Huh?" Hold my head.

   "Wrote up the reports while you're passed out," he pulled on some
shorts, and walked to the kitchen, popped a beer.  I winced.

   "Kinya grab me one too?" I'm off the wagon, and I need it." "Huh,
thanks." Pch!  Drop the bottle opener.  Warsteiner, but it washed the taste
out of my mouth.  "Kah!" Pretty good, I don't even like dark beers.

   "You need a shower?" he waved at the bathroom.  "I need to go do some
shit.  Just errands, I'll run the reports to the drop, but take the bed. 
I'll take the couch tonight, then I guess we can tag-team it, or sleep in
shifts."

   "I need to sign it?" I made it to the bed.

   "It's all electronic, we can sign everything off when we go in." Like
telecommuting.

   "Oh," but I just passed out again.  I guess casual nudity ain't such a
thing when he's rubbed medicine in my,

   "Hh!" No, not again, I screamed, but they're too strong, and they held
me down.  But I felt it, under my back, in my butt.  The gun, they gave
them back, unloaded, but this time I had it, I could do something, I didn't
want to die.  Thunder flashes, and their faces.  The fear, and horror as
the bullets struck, the bright splashes of red, appearing behind them,
their hollow heads as they fell face-first at my feet, and there was more
of them, but they were all armed, so I picked up their guns, and fired from
both hands, the assault carbine, then another, an M-4, barking in my hands
until my shoulders rocked back and forth, and they fell like wheat to a
combine harvester.

   But they kept coming, and I was out of ammo.  I couldn't reload before
they were on me.  Overwhelming me, tearing off my uniform, and stabbing
into me.  Running out of holes, and shooting more into me until I was gone.
Nothing was left but a hole filled with thousands of black cocks.

   "AHHHHHHHH!" I stopped screaming when I realized that was real, and
everything else was just a nightmare.  I hurt, so much I just searched for
the gell and rubbed it in until my fingers got numb.  And I got hard,
ignored it, but now I can't shower, and my fingers are numb, but there's
coffee I can heat up in the microwave.  No milk, but there's a beer left,
and my mouth tastes like piss, so fuck it.  "Kah!"

   BEEP!  Got it out, but at least my head doesn't hurt, so I look to see
what he's got to eat.  Nothing, mother hubbard, not even empty pizza boxes,
but we're cops, we eat out a lot.  The cliche is donuts, but even on the
beat, we eat when we can, and try not to come home hungry.  And a lot of us
drink, it's a hard job, {And I had a hell of a rough night.}

   Better go out, and find some place to eat.  I pull back the blackout
curtains enough to see it's light, and grab a pair of shades off the table.
Just the table, only one in the place, ain't even a dresser, looks like he
lives out of bags.  Nothing hanging in the closet, but there's a tactical
bag, and a gun-safe.  Check the bag, armor, helmet, breaching tools, and
ammo, but no weapons.  "Nobody comes here unarmed," tough neighborhood, but
I don't want to go out, unarmed.

   "Fuck," I got a phone, so I ordered a pizza.

   Lurker {b-m Mnem...}

   Camp.  Blackout drunk is great for reading memory without them
remembering, all the intrusive thoughts.

   {My first time} camp, the Ego is out, nothing but Id, and memories.

   His father was a City Planner, told him they don't need a reservoir on
account of the river, but the little dam is mostly for the camp.  They call
it a lake, more like a pond, or an extra wide part of the river with no
current, but the camp is named for the dam, some Indian word, or vice
versa. It was the camp's dam.  His mother still alive, siblings, but
nothing sexual.  Country, got that.  Didn't have a farm, but he worked
them, or at the silos when they're full.

   The older boys had porn, or some of them.  So, the usual circle jerks
ensued, without any abuse, they just didn't have enough to go around. 
Didn't even touch eachother, but it's like a drug.  "I hear you got some
good shit, man..." Yeah, lets come back here, where nobody can see us... 
He barely looked at the bigger boy's dicks, but hey look, porn!  Men, even
bigger dicks, but he mostly looked at the women.

   Barely pubed, but he can get it up, squeeze out a couple drops, then
when he got home he found some other boys to jerk off with.  The really
unbelievable thing is he didn't meet a single gay, pedorast, or opportunist
to take advantage of him, but that wasn't his "First Time."

   Summers later, they broke out of the cabin, stole some canoes, and
paddled across the river.  No girlfriends back at his hometown, but the
camp girls, well someof them were slutty, and others had friends who were
curious, or liked to do foreplay type shit like kissing, groping, and dry
humping.  The older boys got the sluts, the younger ones practiced on the
modest girls, who're practicing on the younger boys.

   "Huh!" Skip...

   He got older, and started swimming across, on his own.  Turned
semi-nocturnal, I mean starting to take longer naps after school let out
until he could stay up all night, and hang out with friends, but
anticipating the camp, where there was something like a night life.  There
was this one girl, we'll call her Janie, and he flashed to their wedding
photo.

   Huh, met at summer camp.  She came back every year, he watched her grow,
and then they fooled around, and he got to feel her budding breasts. 
Through her training bra, then the next night she didn't wear it, then the
next night they didn't wear underwear, at all.  Kept their clothes on, and
closed, she's Catholic too, and

   Huh!  Yup, his first time was their wedding night.  Never even thought
of cheating.

   {The first time} I saw her.  I didn't even notice, I remember, but it
wasn't like love-at-first-sight.  We ate together, it's one camp, co-ed,
but they only seperate the cabins so kids don't sneak out and fool arond
together.  Right, or steal canoes.  The "Cheifs," and "Cheiftesses" just
went to bed, surely that'll be enough to keep them apart.

   Right, he's pushing 40, it was another time, and a backward part of the
country, even today.  Color TVs were "Hi-tech shit, man!" ~G.  Carlin. 
They had transistor radios, but not out there in the sticks, there was an
army radio in one of the side-tents.  And phones, electric lights, for a
"Camp" they didn't do much camping, it's more like a camping themed resort.

   So anyway, contrast that with my old body.

   Junior {mm/f}

   I remember, urban, but the same hick town on the side of a tributary of
the Missouri river.  Somewhere between that, and the rockys, doesn't even
really matter which state, much less shitty.  Kinda place you can't wait to
get outta, not dream about going there, some day...

   Went to the same fucking camp, technically the boys' tents were across
state lines, but there's a bridge on one side of the "Lake" and you can
walk across the dam on the other.  The river is just a shallow narrow
stream, snaking itself across the planes, at this point most of it is
pumped out to fields anyway, they usually just have to open the dam in
spring, and when there's a lot of rain upstream.  Then, it's more like a
river, but it can flow so it doesn't flood, except when it does.  You get
freak storm seasons out here, it's tornado alley.

   Actually like 8 years younger than the Probie, but didn't jump around to
find his place as much, and got tons of experience on the streets.  Grew up
there, white, but blacks are actually less of a majority, even the ghettos
are more of a Black/White/Brown mix than your typical prison population. 
Understands that Ghettos are breeding grounds for Prisons, the economic
repression, and outright poverty limit your options for success, crime pays
up front, things like College, the Military, Sport, or a celebrity career
like Gangsta Rap are investments you might not live long enough to collect
on.

   So, before you start blaming the Gangstas, let me inform you they're
Victims.  Your victims, and nobody blames the victims like the privileged
abuser.  Case in point, the white cop from the streets.  By the way, big
old Psychopath.  Didn't have to dig through the basement to figure it out,
I can feel it, or I can't.  It's not how they feel, but what they can, and
what they don't defines the pathology.  Natural, not a single genophage,
some boys grow out of it.

   Just like some Niggas come Straight outta Compton wit Attitude, but
they're the exceptions.  The exceptional Sociopath figures out how to
control themselves before they get too much of a record, to become Cops. 
Sorry, but I need to provide context, because at first, it was about
Privilege.

   Take Junior here.  His daddy loved his oldest son.  His namesake, like I
said, it's urban, but country shitty.  But he had a temper, too, so the
oldest son took most of it.  Wet the bed, until my daddy beat me, and I
never did it again.  He played with fire, but not like a psychopath.  In
case you're wondering, a psychopath isn't introspective enough to fake
morality, empathy, and the organization to become a cop.  Also, psychopaths
don't play with fire any more than they just wet the bed, or mutilate dead
animals.  He dissected frogs, made it to High School Biology, didn't feel a
thing.

   Had a few first times, after the first time my daddy beat me so hard I
had to go to the hospital, and he had to tell them about the "Accident."
Then, the first sexual thrills, just seeing down a woman's top, or up her
skirt.  His first porno, followed immediately by his first sexual
experience.  An older boy, outta high school, black but he's not racist,
right?  Grew up with blacks, and "Mexicans" mulattos, and even learned a
little street Spanglish.

   Senior was more of the Anger type, hated everyone.  Just hated everyone
else more to get through the day.  Only really got sadistic when he was
angry, but had a cold rage.  He could surprise you if you didn't know he
was pissed.  Not a drinker, never touched a drop, it gave him migraines. 
The wife, yeah she drank.  Hit the kids too when she got a mean drunk on,
blacked out, then gaslit them when they said she hit them.  Not spankings,
it wasn't a spanking family, and she'd grab stuff to throw, and beat you
with.  Knock-down dragout fights between the folks.

   He wasn't sexually abused, he was raised on violence.  But he was the
big brother, he had to protect the children, and even stand up to one of
the parents.  So, he became a Narcissist, hero complex, to hide the fact
that he's a rapist, and a sadist.  Malignant Narcissist, Power Assertive.

   His first victim was the first girl he made out with.  His rapist just
did it that one time, but threatened to kill him if he reported it.  Never
saw him again, but remembered it, and when he had a little trouble getting
it up, he escalated straight to Violence.  Raped her, brutally.  Deflowered
her, then sodomized her when that didn't get him off.  Made her clean the
shit blood and cum{~M.  J.  Keenan}off with her mouth.

   My Master doesn't understand human sexuality, completely.  Here's the
part I can't explain to Him because I don't get it either.  She came back,
this wasn't a deniable, "Oh, he just got a little rough and I shouldn't
have teased him" acquaintance rape.  He didn't even have to rape her, she
was willing.  He raped her because it was violent, and it turned him on. 
Then he could rape her, and it was better than any of his plantacies.

   He never felt that powerful again.

   Probie {MF NS Snuf}

   It was beautiful, then she was gone.  Pregnant with our first child, but
I moved to the city, and we couldn't afford a good place.  She was from the
suburbs, but it wasn't a rape, a robbery, or even a drivebye.  It was just
a bunch of punk kids, in a stolen car, robbed a gas station, and stole
cases of beer.  But not just a drunk driver.  Criminals, just starting
their careers, but having a good time.  Not a single fuck given to anyone
walking down the street, or on the sidewalk, carrying groceries home from
the bodega.  And it wasn't racial, there was all kinds of people in the
car. Yeah the driver was Mulatto, but it could've been the white guy behind
the wheel, trying to cut the corner, hitting the curb, and spinning out of
control, crashing into the building across the street.

   They all survived, but we couldn't even have an open casket at the
funeral.  Funerals, I lost my unborn son that night too.

   So, I got off my ass, and decided what to do with my life.  I don't hate
anyone, but I hate crime.  It's a blight, a plague, it's what corrupts this
otherwise fair, and equal society.  It destroys lives, not just the
criminals' or their victims', but sometimes even the most innocent, for
daring to live near it.

   I never loved anyone else again, like I loved her.  My dear, "Uh!"

   Lurker {DM...}

   "How sentimental." ~Magenta.  Hehehahaha!  No idea how common, and
softcore his puny suffering really is, compared to just about anyone who
ever lived outside their privileged sheltered little bubble.  Would have
made me sick if his quaint sincere suffering wasn't so fucking delicious.
We gang-raped him, yeah I waited till we got him home to break off my peice
of ass, but that was My Gang.  You think I sat through all the classes and
shit it takes to become a cop?  Phft!  I can lie to shrinks, and hide just
about anywhere, but I could never pass their psych exams.  I'm amazed
Junior did.

   We gangraped him and all he could think about was his poow widdew wife
and son.  Get over, it, pussy.  You haven't even heard of the suffering I
got in store for you.  Get used to it, it's gonna hurt a lot worse.

   "Honey, I'm Home!" And you, junior.

   "Uh!" flash back to everything he didn't feel last night.  The probing
finger, being rolled over on the couch, his pants pulling down, the slick
hard cock sliding into his drugged numb bum, the sore achey penetration and
unconscious grunts forced out by my weight on top of him.

   "What?" he tried to smile charmingly.

   "Fuckiking Faggot!" He studdered a little.

   He went for his belt, so I flashed back last night in a hilites reel of
interracial gangbang rape so I could slap his gun away, palm strike his
chin, grab his mouth, and ram his head back into the steel security door.

   He slumped, slid down in front of me, eyes wide open, and mouth too. 
Looked surprised, who can blame him, but KTFO.  Tweety birds. 
"Nyeahuheha!" I wanted to clap, but he was talking.

   "Kenneth Falls the second," rolled him over, "You're under arrest for
conspiracy to commit rape, sexual assault, prostitution," thought a second,
"Probably racketeering, enterprisecorruption, bribery, and falsifying
government documents." Like the reports, Head slap.  "Huh!" But the
cuff-holder looped right through the back of his belt.  "You have the right
to remain silent," snap, "If you waive that right, anything you say, {or
drool} will be taken as evidence against you." Better call the Crime Lab.
"You have the right to legal council.  If you can't find a lawyer that can
stand to defend your sick ass then we'll find the worst probie public
defender to sit in the chair next to you while we nail your ass to the
wall."

   He shook him awake, but the Rage was already out, didn't even think
about what came next, losing the feeling in his arms, watching helplessly
as I unbuckled his belt.  "You won't be needing these,"

   "What the Fuck!" Kuhn!  His knuckles hurt, but I just dazed him.

   "{ShutTheFuckUp!}" Grab his mouth, "{I don't need you conscious for
this,}" Pulling his pants down, knowing what cums next, but I don't have to
get him hard.  "Fucker!" Belt buckle to the back of his head, but I lean
in, turn him to look at me.  "But I want you to Feel it." Blowing spit in
his face, "{You think you know what a victim feels?}"

   "NYRHHH!" His balls bulged, and crushed in my grip.

   "Congratulations," I laughed, "I'm about to learn what a Rapist feels
like!"

   Not bad.  Maybe he does have it in him.  You get it?  Finally, something
I can sit back, and watch!  Straight on straight rape is the best, because
it isn't even sexual.  At all, power, and control weren't in there.  This
was violence, about pain, and revenge.  Making him hurt the way I do, for
setting it up.  Yes!

   "Yes," Slow.  Hard, pushing in as deep as he can, but making him feel
ever inch.  Like Delante' he really knows how to rape an ass, and he's got
miles of black cock, but this.  "Huh, huh, huh!" Picking up speed, but just
as hard, just as deep.  "That feel better?" Donkey punch.

   "Nh!"

   "Does that feel good?" Grab the belt, "You like it?" Slap, "Huh,
faggot?"

   "KHK!" Yoking him, and god you gotta love a cop yoking a cop on the
floor.

   "Uh!" sink in, "Huh!"

   Fuck!

   "NH!" One last thrust before it goes soft.  "Huh, huh!" Pulling out, but
the guilt.

   I'm just freaking out because I can feel it.

   "Oh god, what have I done?" I wanted Jr.  back, he's got all the Power,
but he's looking at his hands, shaking, backing up on his knees, then. 
"WHURLGHK!" Booze puke.  Falling face first on it, and heaving again. 
Almost had a fucking heart attack, but I stop it before we have to explain
this to the paramedics.  "GKH!" Down to bile, so I stop the spasms just
cause I had enough of it.  He's had enough, here, {SLEEP.} Block his
senses, but let him think.  Fall down into subspace, and dream.

   Shivering, fall flat.  Stare out over the puddle, and floor.

   Junior twisted, hooked his pinky in the belt loop, and jerked it out
with a rip of threads.  Handcuff key, he remembered!  That's one of my
tricks.

   Right, duh.  Follow the genophages, I didn't have enough.  Or plenty,
but not collected in the emptied bladder, primed with neurotransmitters so
I can feel, and think through the transfer, guide it to make it faster,
without a womb to infect.  "Huh!" too soon, but the balls were already
changing, and I can make this one stronger before I switch back.

   Tye game, rape-tag, my favorite.  They both scored, and the revenge
motivated competitin will only escalate eachother.  Probert isn't even
Catholic any more, that childish fantasy is gone, welcome to the real
world. Now, to make him another sociopath...