1 comments/  10049 views/  4 favorites

Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 01

By: hawaiisun



The Cobra Crew is back, and like all good sequels, it's bigger and badder, with way more helpless babes! The events in "Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike" take place after my original story, "Cobra Crew: Freeing Escobar", so feel free to check it out if you haven't already, though it is my promise that "Preemptive Strike" will stand up well on its own. 

My thanks to those who left encouraging comments and waited patiently for a sequel. Enjoy the new story and share your thoughts with me! 

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

============================

The two shadowy figures made their way across the wide hallway, the padded soles of their boots pressing silently on the dark Mahogany floor. Ignoring the beautiful, Victorian era canvasses on the walls, the pair came to a stop at the tall double-doors of the master bedroom, and quietly turned the key to release the deadbolt. The soft "click" sounded deafening in the estate mansion, but there was no reaction from anyone.

The masked intruders gestured to one another, before nodding in unison, having reached an understanding to proceed. He tugged slowly on the hinged handles, and nudged on the doors until they swung open. With an array of floor-to-ceiling glass panes as windows, the expansive bedroom was graced by the ambient moonlight and the reflected rays from the lake. 

Privacy was a top priority for the home owners, and the reclusive location of their house eliminated the need for curtains or window covering. Unfortunately for them, the uninvited guests were also planning to take full advantage of the privacy offered.

Powering off their high-intensity flashlights, the intruders could still see their primary target, sleeping soundly by herself. Her fine, curled-up form was hidden underneath the fluffy covers, barely taking up a fraction of the king-size bed. They also saw the glass of water on the night table, alongside the bottle of Ambien tablets alongside. Without a word, the pair split up, each approaching an opposite side of the bed.

Knowing the effects of the bedtime sedative was in full swing on their target, the two figures took their time. The female intruder located the woman's charging phone on the nightstand, twirled the screen in her hand against the moonlight, and smiled when she located the fingerprints on the touchscreen glass pane. Moments later, she showed the unlocked screen to her partner, giving him a thumbs-up.

He reciprocated the sign of approval, showing her the loaded Ruger Compact pistol he found from the bedside drawer. The masked figure quickly emptied the chamber, released the magazine, and placed all the pieces into the duffel bag he was carrying.

Satisfied, they nodded at each other. Both intruders moved stealthily until they were at the mattress, staring intently at their unmoving target.

Valerie and Ryan had done this numerous times by now, but the thrill of the "go" moment was still unparalleled. Steeling themselves with deep breathes, Val mouthed the words "your show" to him. He nodded and pointed, and she responded by yanking the covers off of the sleeping woman.

The former college linebacker immediately rolled their newest victim to her back, and threw his 6-foot-3, 245 pounds, rugged frame on her. His knees pinned down her arms, and his burly hand easily enveloped the lower half of her face. At the same time, his petite but feisty partner threw her weight on to the woman's knees and bare calves, completely immobilizing her.

"Nnph. Mmmpph? Mmmmpphh!" She cried out with rising concern, her hazy cloud of sedation quickly clearing. The pair patiently waited for her return to reality, thwarting her meek attempts to free herself with ease. In fact, Ryan rather enjoyed the lovely sensation of her heated body stirring against his.

"Stop your struggles, Mrs. Sullivan." Ryan commanded in his deep and booming voice. She slowed her futile defense, switching focus to the hulky figure straddling her instead. He leaned in closer, until he reduced her field of vision to his black balaclava and his piercing eyes in the cut-holes. With adrenaline rapidly displacing her grogginess, the woman tensed and whimpered, her expression an unreadable blend of growing panic and confusion.

"You are being robbed." He announced casually. "When I take my hand away, you will tell us where your valuables are. Got it?"

Ryan watched their victim nod vigorously, knowing from experience all she was agreeing to was not having half her face covered by leather. So it was no surprise to the assailants when Mrs. Sullivan sucked in a lungful of air, and blurted out loudly, "Who are you? How did you get in here?? We have an alarm and my maid is downstairs-"

THWACK! Ryan stopped her in mid-sentence with a hard, stinging slap to her cheek, sending strands of her dark brown hair flying. Squeezing down on her pretty lips once again, he reached for his recently-acquired ballistic knife, and launched the spring-propelled blade right in front of her watery, turquoise eyes.

"Tina isn't available right now, Mrs. Sullivan." Ryan said with a smirk, relishing the look of fear and concern registering on her face. He lowered the Russian-made weapon until the titanium blade rested on her skin. "Tell us where your valuables are, or I use this on your pretty face."

"Ohmygod, don't hurt me, please, don't, please..."

"Let's try this again." Through clenched teeth, he slapped her again, and flicked the blade to slice through her loose strands of hair. She screamed in horror and outrage, and Ryan could feel her blistering heartbeats underneath him.

"There, there's money, and, cash in the closet." She gulped. "Take it. In the study. My purse- has cash, it's on the chair. And-and-and jewelry, in the dresser..."

"Which closet? What dresser?" Val found the excuse she needed to chime in, crawling beside the woman and smacking her on the side of the head. "Give us fucking details, you fucking bitch. Now!!"

Clearly perturbed at the young female voice menacing her, beads of sweat began to form on Mrs. Sullivan's forehead, as she stammered through the particulars. The woman stuttered and blinked wildly when Ryan passed the knife to Val, who held the blade to her neck, while he shifted his body to rest on her stomach.

"- some, necklaces, third, no, fourth drawer... oh god, what are you doing? Stop it!" He seized her wrists and gripped them together with one hand, her slender wrists crossed together. "Owww, you're hurting me!"

"Quiet." He put a finger to his lips. "The more you struggle, the more painful it will be. Now hold still."

Mrs. Sullivan still tried to pull away, but it did not stop Ryan from binding her wrists with the grey cotton twines they brought with them. With expertise and efficiency, he pulled them above her head, and slithered forward on his knees against her prone body, until his loins were almost touching her chin. She gasped at the uninvited warmth and flinched away, but for the moment, Ryan was focused on looping the rope over the headboard. Fully aware of her unease, he took his time to fasten his dead knots, as she tensed up beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut.

The distracted Mrs. Sullivan did not notice rope was being circled around her ankles, until Val tugged hard on both sides, involuntarily spreading her legs far apart. Out of the corner of her eye, Carolyn realized the other end of the rope was already tied around the thick support leg of her solid oak bedframe. Her belated flails presented no challenge to the determined young woman, who produced the same quality knots as her partner, knots that were near impossible to untie by hand.

By the time both intruders climbed off of her, Mrs. Sullivan found herself sprawled out and tied to her own bed, in the shape of an inverted "Y". Pleased, Ryan and Valerie took their flashlights and passed the powerful beams over her, getting their first good, close-up look at the dark brunette.

Carolyn Sullivan was the socialite wife of Frank Jonathan Sullivan, Jr., the regional president of the petroleum giant PremiumEnergy. Twenty years his junior, the exceptionally lovely twenty-seven-year-old was the very definition of a trophy wife, but the former model could care less about the whispers, not when she was enjoying her life of luxury and opulence. 

Freed to do as she wanted, Carolyn chose to be immersed in her social life. The young and energetic Mrs. Sullivan was seated on the committees of various charities and programs, occupying herself with endless meetings and events planning.

Part of her intoxication with sociality was her addiction to attention. Carolyn understood the power of her attractive figure, and did not think twice about using it to her advantage. The brunette was always turning heads with her expensive, tight blouses buttoned to show a good deal of her large bosoms, or skirts that hugged her shapely rear. While never afraid to show more skin, Carolyn was always in control of how far she wants to go. 

Tonight, however, in the safety of her own home and bed, she was far, far from being in charge.

For starters, Carolyn was only dressed in her hot pink, satin night gown, with a laced trim that ended at the top of her thighs. Following the sight of her smooth, long legs, Ryan and Valerie could easily see the mound of her white, hip-hugging panties. With her generous tits being pulled up by her arms, her hardened nipples were well-visible through the lacy fabric. Though she always adorned her face with makeup and dark lipsticks in public, Ryan and Valerie liked what they saw, even without the extra cover.

"Just take what you want." She pleaded, sensing the attackers' growing focus on her. "And leave me alone." She added, an undisguised point of clarification.

"We WILL take what we want, Mrs. Sullivan." He reasserted himself, brushing his fingers lightly across her face. "But have you told us where ALL your valuables are? Where is your safe?"

"W-we d-don't have a safe." She replied, her eyes blinking furiously. "I-I told you where we keep our cash and jewelry. Please, just take them and leave me alone."

"Liar. You will pay for that." His gloved hand cut across her face, and he whipped down on her bare thighs for good measure. Val joined in the fray, taking aim with Mrs. Sullivan's bare soles with a rope doubling as a makeshift whip. The woman screamed at the top of her lungs, but that only earned her more hurt.

"Shut the fuck up!" Val hollered, while Ryan clamped down on her open mouth. Still choking up in sobs of pain and anger, their victim finally stopped screaming, but glared icy daggers at the man straddling her through her teary eyes.

"You're a lying cunt." He whispered lewdly in the woman's ear. "We're going to start with your safe in the spare bedroom." Her garbled cry and widened eyes begged to know, so Ryan continued. 

"We convinced your lil' housekeeper to tell us where you keep the good shit. Tina didn't have the safe combos, but you saved us the trouble." Val stepped in with Mrs. Sullivan's phone, where the bright screen was displaying rows of her personal data, such as "Safe 1 - bedroom 3, closet, 88-06-21". 

Mrs. Sullivan groaned behind Ryan's gloved hand.

"Don't blame Tina, she TRIED to hold out on us." He said, retrieving a handheld camera from his pocket. "We just changed her mind. Have a look."

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the mini-slideshow.

The images were that of Martina Tomic, the Sullivans' twenty-two-year-old live-in housekeeper from Croatia, taken in her own bedroom downstairs. The light-freckled blonde laid there, blindfolded, gagged and harshly hogtied - there was even rope tied around her muff. She was naked, saved for her panties that were shamefully rolled down to her thighs. From the close-up shots, an aghast Mrs. Sullivan could recognize a pair of her own dirty panties was stuffed in Tina's mouth. She was also taken aback at the overt red marks, mostly on her buttocks, on her otherwise pale skin.

"We spent some time with her."

Thirty minutes earlier, as Carolyn was sound asleep, Ryan and Val gained entry into the mansion by picking the lock to the garage side door. Once inside the spacious garage, they noted the absence of Mr. Sullivan's bronze-metallic Range Rover, among several other parked vehicles. They knew the European SUV was currently parked at the airport, and its owner was on an oversea flight to Dubai. 

At the entrance into the home, Valerie defeated the alarm system with ease, determining the Sullivans' entry code in twenty-five seconds. 

"Pathetic. The alarm interface was not even encrypted." She remarked, and Ryan could only shrug his broad shoulders in response. Having memorized the Sullivans' floor plan in advance, they made their way in near-complete darkness directly to Tina's quarters, a moderately-sized bedroom suite adjacent to the kitchen. 

Unlike her mistress, Tina was a light sleeper, and was abruptly awaken by the sound of her door being opened. But Ryan and Val were not overly concerned, since they knew the Sullivans had extra soundproofing material installed for the housekeep's living space. Tina's startled scream was absorbed by the walls, and Ryan's lightning-fast tackle prevented her from reaching her phone.

Shaking in absolute dread at the sight of the two armed, masked intruders, Tina was nonetheless fiercely loyal to her employers. Even when threatened, she steadfastly refused to divulge the locations of the valuables in the house. 

"Ne dun't know", the slender woman repeated over and over, in her distinct accent. Amused yet annoyed, the pair knew they had to turn up the heat on the stubborn housekeeper. Their real challenge was to do so without breaking their boss' first rule of engagement - "Business First", Cammy would always say.

The pair was convinced that Tina's independent data was a top priority, since they had no illusions that Mrs. Sullivan would accurately volunteer to surrender her own possessions. So they decided to mitigate the risks of a prolonged interrogation with two rules: twenty minutes max, and no sex - well, not for them, anyway. 

In short, the unwitting blonde from Croatia just became their warm up act.

After Val tapped into the monitoring cameras in the home to ensure Mrs. Sullivan was not up and about, the pair got to work on Tina. First, they bound her hands behind her back and forced a big black ball gag between her teeth. They jabbed open a hole for her nose in her pillowcase, then tied it around her head. After slapping her around, Ryan lifted Tina off her feet with a bear hug from behind, allowing Val to slice off her top and pants, tossing the ruined matching pajama set on the floor.

With the housekeeper's pert breasts exposed, the two pairs of gloved hands descended eagerly on them, roughly tugging and grabbing her brown areola and nipples.

Still defiant but gasping in pain and rushed breathes now, Tina was dumped face down on her own mattress. While Val slipped out to "get extra supplies", Ryan carried on with the torment by pulling down her pale blue panties down to her knees, and delivered minutes of heavy spanking to her round bottom.

By the time Val returned with selected items from the hamper, Tina's ass was glowing crimson, but things were just getting started. He rolled Tina on to her back, clasped her ankles with his vice-like grip, and spread them apart like two levers, her bare soles facing the ceiling. Completely vulnerable, the young housekeeper squealed in alarm when Val proceeded to explore her pussy lips, gradually working her fingers up her tunnel. 

Minutes later, Val's experienced fingers reappeared with a trail of crystalized slickness. With a wide grin on her face, she intensified the action, going down on the woman's bush and invading her with her tongue. Just as the housekeeper was shrieking from the forced sensations behind the rubber ball, Val stopped abruptly. 

"Ready to talk, bitch?" She mused, a coil of rope in her hand. When the woman thrashed her head about, Val smiled - and whipped the wet, puffy pussy in front of her. Tina's soft pubic curls offered little in the way of protection, so her cries of protests instantly turned to screams of pain. Stifling her giggles, Val proceeded to rain down a dozen blows on Tina's bare pussy and tits.

When Tina tearfully pleaded for mercy in her broken English - instead of spilling the beans - the bubbly masked woman bent down to suckle on her sore nipples. She started out by rolling them between her teeth, but did not hesitate to leave bite marks, and continued until both nubs were rock hard. 

Unfortunately for Tina, Val discovered more than worn panties in the laundry room. The housekeeper never saw the plastic clothespins coming, but she sure felt their bite when Val fastened both to her rose-coloured nipples. 

That was more than enough agony and humiliation than the young woman can handle, who finally opened her vault of knowledge on the Sullivans, once they wedged free the saliva-laden ball from her mouth. Having served in their house for over a year now, she was able to recite all the locations of interest to the assailants, including those that were "private to Mr. Sullivan". When pressed for the combination to the safes, Tina tearfully confessed she had no such knowledge, but was quick to point out that Mrs. Sullivan "kept everything" on her phone.

The pair shared a quick fist bump on their success, but neither thought to show any leniency to the woman, whom they needed to secure while they move on to her sleeping mistress. Ryan began by using a pair of Tina's worn panties to wipe the excess juices from her pussy. Unable to let the opportunity pass, he sheepishly lowered his pants to stroke his massive hard-on with her soft cotton underwear, collecting a gob of pre-cum in the process. Balled up together with one of Mrs. Sullivan's panties, they forced the housekeeper to accept the make-shift gag. The reinforcement for Tina's new gag was a strip of her own pajama top, tied tightly around her head.

Tossed back on her stomach, Ryan clamp down on her ankles while Val brought the ropes on them. As he arched her bare legs back, the masked young woman rolled up Tina's blue panties, but only back to her thighs. 

"Decoration." She explained, to which she received an enthusiastic thumbs-up from her partner. Val then drew a second twine through as tight as possible, until Tina's bound ankles and wrists were almost touching.

"Painful, bitch? Here, you'll LOVE this one." Val announced, producing a thick knot with the rope in her hand. With some forced maneuvering of Tina's body, Val was able to insert the knot past her wet pussy lips, stretch the rope tight against her clit, until the grey twine was buried in her crotch, and disappeared between her ass cheeks. Encouraged by the woman's renewed cries, Val fastened the rope around her waist for the perfect crotch tie.

"Fuckin' gorgeous." Valerie smiled to an affirming Ryan. The casual partners shared a long, passionate kiss, lengthy enough for him to sample residues of Tina's arousal from her lips. 

"Save it for later, big boy. The hot one is waiting for us upstairs." She whispered softly in his ear, gently touching his excited member through his pants. With his eyes closed, he nodded in silence.

Before they left, Val whirled around the bed to snap pictures of the bound Tina with her pocket size point-and-shoot. Two shots in, she was having regrets about leaving her top-of-the-line Canon DSLR behind, but they knew the camera was too bulky for a simple home invasion. After all, the empty spaces in their duffel bags were reserved for the loot.

"Don't worry about Tina, Mrs. Sullivan. She will keep you company... while we help ourselves." Ryan turned off the camera, and strapped a thick sleeping blindfold over her eyes. After waving the sharp blade right in front of her eyes and received no reaction, the pair pulled off their masks and put them aside.


Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 02



Policewomen are definitely in peril when the Cobra Crew is on the job! Find out how the gang shift from invading homes to stalking cops in the second of this five-part story. Your feedback is welcomed. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 

=======================================

Mrs. Carolyn Sullivan was almost... relieved to hear the approaching footsteps of the two assailants. At this point in time, she would do just about anything to get her housekeeper's hot, soapy pussy off her filthy face; do almost anything for a breath of fresh air, instead of being trapped under Tina's sweaty ass, and being smothered with Tina's raunchy, overwhelming scent...

The mistress of the house had lost track of the time, but she was fairly certain her housekeeper had at least three orgasms while "inadvertently" rubbing her pussy against her mouth. Carolyn tried everything -- struggling, ordering, pleading with her to stop, but Tina's whiny, gagged responses and continued humping of her face indicated she was either unable, or unwilling, to stop. 

Maybe both.

"Did you miss us, bitches?!!" Carolyn wanted to shout 'yes' to the screaming young woman, but that was before her gloved hands went back to cupping her tits and pinching her sensitive nipples. In no time, she was the caressing her legs and poking at her vulnerable pussy again. Yes, she was definitely The Crazy One.

Meanwhile, she could feel her partner, whom she thought of as The Giant, landing on the mattress -- and likely cutting Tina loose. Finally, a breath of fresh air... 

Suddenly, both assailants stopped. They shuffled around for something... then inexplicably, they left the room again, slamming shut the doors so hard that the frame rattled.

What the hell is going on? Carolyn fumed.

***

"Evac. EVAC. Meet at Eden DELTA in 45. EVAC NOW."

The two pairs of eyes stared blankly at the identical message on BOTH their devices, then at each other. 

Their phones vibrated simultaneously again, and they received the same message, only this time, their boss added the words "EVAC IS NOT A DRILL" to emphasize the point.

"No fucking way..."

***

A minute later, Carolyn could pick up a heated conversation between the two assailants. She shushed Tina to stay quiet, and the hostages could definitely hear--

"... fuck Hammond..."

"We can't..."

"... should just kill the bitches..."

"... he hired..."

"... teach that bastard Mark... lesson"

"... just take the money... get the fuck out"

Mark Hammond? The name was familiar to Carolyn. Hammond was one of her husband's "business associates" down in Texas. Was he pulling an inside job--

Mrs. Sullivan did not get to finish her thought, as the assailants burst through the doors again.

"Well, it's your lucky evening, ladies. Saved by the bell, as they say." The Giant announced, without elaborating. To his partner, he added, "He didn't say HOW we should leave them alone."

"Nope. The motherfucker didn't say shit 'bout that." The Crazy One concurred, in that devious manner of hers.

Carolyn screamed when gloved hands descended on her again.

***

Cammy was focused on the glowing laptop screen in front of her, but she had no trouble hearing the soft rumbling of an approaching vehicle. That wasn't difficult since she was the only one parked on the dark pavement, under the lustrous moonlight. From her vantage point, she could see the glimmers from the reservoir water, just beyond the tiny control building.

The backup reservoir was just a mile off the Interstate, but there was no compelling reason for anyone to visit. The tall cement banks of the reservoir made shore fishing impossible, and there was no nature path constructed around the man-made lake. Still, Cammy took precautions, closing the lid on the laptop and slipped out of the Mercedes. She took a crouching stance with her vehicle as cover, a deadly M4A1 assault rifle slung around her shoulders.

The incoming vehicle had cut its lights, but Cammy could tell from the familiar engine sounds that it was a Dodge minivan. Still, she kept her finger hovering over the trigger until the van stopped about fifteen feet away, and a hulking form rolled out of the side door, taking up position behind a rock.

"Romeo. Vixen." Cammy called out, relieved to see her crew again. Val cautiously stepped out of the driver's seat, and Ryan emerged from his hiding place. In an unusual show of affection, the brunette came up to the young woman and embraced her. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Val seemed flustered by the extra attention.

"Boss, what's going on?" Val asked with concern in her voice -- and that was before seeing the weapon Cammy was carrying. "Holy shit, what's with the hardware? You expecting a SWAT team or something?"

To Val's dismay, her half-joke was not met with even a chuckle from Cammy.

"We're taking a drive." Cammy declared. "I'll fill you in on the way. Vixen, you're with me. Romeo, trail us." 

She added, "It'll be a three hour drive, give or take." Both Ryan and Valerie raised their eyebrows in the dark -- this WAS serious shit.

"I'm really sorry your operation was cut short tonight." Cammy said sincerely, as Val climbed into the passenger side, re-jigging their headsets so they could conference in Ryan. "Did you have time to slip in the name for the missus?"

"We had to improvise, but I'm sure both bitches heard Hammond." 

Mark Hammond was a name they picked out of the ATF/IRS report on the Texas weapon smugglers. Cammy thought it was worth a shot to sow seeds of distrust among the group. With any luck, the group may even fracture themselves to the point where Agent Koch and the ATF could swoop in -- that would be the cherry on top, since they were invested in the welfare of their ATF mole.

"Good. And what was the take tonight?"

"Estimate to be about two-fifty, plus at least a few grand from the Sullivans. They had other shit, but we just took the cash."

"A quarter of a mil -- that should get them riled up. That and all the nasty media you recorded."

"Oooh yeah." Val beamed. "With a select few making their way to the smugglers."

"And I imagine you left the ladies occupied."

"You bet." Val allowed a smile, as did Ryan in the minivan as he followed Cammy. "We'll show you later, Boss."

***

Carolyn screamed into her panties -- the pair she worn two days ago, when she decided to reward her horny husband by letting him take her from behind on the stairs. The same pair of black panties that collected his glob of cum as he came.

Aside from having the extra salty taste in her mouth, Mrs. Sullivan had other things to worry about, such as her naked housekeeper tussling above her. Tried as she might, Tina was not getting the message that with each struggle, the double-ended, rubbery dildo -- nestled in both their vaginas at the moment -- was rocking back-and-forth inside her. 

In short, Carolyn was being fucked by her twenty-two-year-old housekeeper.

About an hour ago, with a wicked-looking blade pressed against her neck to ensure cooperation, Carolyn was penetrated by The Crazy One with one end of the rubber monster. At least they had greased up the massive thing with K-Y jelly. The Giant then dropped an exhausted Tina on her, so that they laid face-to-face, with their naked bodies pressed together.

Then they tied up Tina to the bed again, this time adding some kind of crude noose around their necks, with a dire warning that "if one pulled away, the other one will suffocate". Neither women wanted to verify the threat. 

After that, came the rope. Lots of them, encircling their bodies. The Giant produced dead knots until their bare breasts were mashed together and their open pussies lined up.

The light-freckled blonde whined into her gag when the other end of the dildo filled her cunt, its entry made easy with the K-Y and the ample amount of juices from her earlier stimulation.

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Sullivan, before Tina was blindfolded for good, she was shown a pair of nail-clipping scissors -- placed on the mattress, just outside her reach. That was the reason for the housekeeper's desperate push forward...

"I hand-picked those creamy panties for you, CUNT." Carolyn cringed at the memories of the Crazy One spitting in her face, as she pressed down layers of duct tape over her lips, after cramming the worn panties deep inside her mouth.

"Tell Calderon, thanks for the cash." Carolyn's face ashen at the mention of the smugglers' de-facto head. Calderon would not react kindly to the disappearance of his money. She knew also that there was no chance they would report this to the authorities...

"Good night, Mrs. Sullivan." The Giant told her, after double-checking their binds. The bedroom doors were closed, and the mansion fell silent again.

Since then, the frustrated women exchanged their gagged dialogue, minus any meaningful communication. As Tina strained again to put her fingertip on the scissors, her mistress moaned at their hard nipples brushing back and forth... and knew she needed to cum... again. 

Mark Hammond. Hammond did this. Carolyn had no idea who the hell he was, where he was, or even what he looked like, but he was now the target of all her wrath. He will pay, she thought, as Tina pushed into her again... Maybe Hammond has a wife... or a girlfriend. 

Yes. Hammond's bitch will pay too. Whoever she was, the dark brunette thought, before she surrendered to Tina's rhythmic invasion...

***

"Here's the story," Cammy said, her sigh masked by the roar of the Mercedes engine as she merged on to the quiet Interstate. Her cold, no-nonsense tone left little room for interruptions, so Ryan and Val listened in silence.

"Three days ago, Diego Valdez was found dead in his home, with clear signs of torture." Valdez was Escobar's lawyer, the Crew's go-between for coordinating the breakout. "The best part was, the team of four federal agents assigned to protect Valdez was found unconscious, bound and gagged in his basement. Whoever off-ed Valdez, they're good."

"Turns out Valdez was getting protection because he was secretly working out a deal with the FBI. In exchange for immunity, he was going to give up dirt on everyone -- Escobar, his other clients, and... us. But Escobar found out about the betrayal through his sources, and put out a contract on Valdez."

Cammy proceeded to explain her unexpected meeting with Jessica -- conveniently leaving out the details of their... more personal encounter. Subconsciously, her hand darted into her pocket to touch the pair of see-thru panties there. Fortunately, Val was too engaged in the tale to notice.

"Investigators from the FBI, the ATF, the U.S. Marshals and the State Police had a long conference call tonight. The FBI shared that before Valdez died, he boasted to them that he kept EVERY piece of data. Information meant power to him. Remember the prepaid credit cards he gave us before the job?"

"Turns out the slimy bastard was using those to give himself leverage. He saved the records of every transactions on those cards. Date, time, amount, store and location to where we shopped for phones and equipment, the places we stayed in... basically everything we used for busting out Escobar."

"And that's not all. Valdez had a few of our bank account numbers. If the Feds got their hands on those, they could put all the pieces together and track us down... in days, who knows, even hours."

The grim silence in both vehicle spoke volumes. The situation was dire -- their trail, their money, even their safe houses could all potentially be compromised. Without their resources, it would only be a matter of time before they were captured -- or worse.

"So... are we going underground now? Wait, did Valdez give up the trail before he died?"

"That's where we've lucked out, apparently." Cammy frowned. "According to Agent Koch, Valdez was so paranoid about the government, he never posted anything online. He told the cops he made encrypted, password-protected copies of his data on exactly ten USB sticks. The FBI admitted he did not reveal his password, not until their deal was done. But, he never got the chance."

"After his death, the State Police followed his instructions and found all ten sticks from Valdez's home, office and deposit boxes. The State cops thought they could get a step ahead of everybody by making a copy first, before handing them over to the FBI. When they tried, the built-in protection program erased everything, Koch said... was it bit-by-bit?"

"Block-by-block, probably." Valerie, their resident computer expert, jumped in. "If they were dumb enough to sit there and let the program scramble the blocks around, and the data was encrypted to begin with... well, no one can put it back." 

"Right. So the lead FBI investigator is flying in from D.C. in the morning with one of their top techies to check it out. If they can't decrypt it, they'll take everything and 'brute-force' it through their supercomputers, Koch said. Worst case, they could have the data in days..."

The pause in the two vehicles were just long enough for Val and Ryan to catch on to their boss' thoughts.

"Unless...?"

"Unless... we get to the sticks first."

The women's eyes met in the softly illuminated interior of the travelling SUV. In an instant, the trio understood what they needed to do.

"A pre-emptive strike. I like it. What's our move?" Ryan's voice came over their headsets.

"Why, I'm glad you asked." Cammy smiled, and directed Val to pull out the tablet. Soon, Val was staring at a map and a spreadsheet to the screen. 

"We are going to start here..."

***

The drive to West Port City took almost three hours even with no traffic, but the Crew made the most of it by planning and improvising their moves along the way. They were now coming up to their first target, and their heightened sense of operation had returned. The Mercedes, running without its lights, rolled through an aging neighbourhood with wide lots, picket fences, and moderately-sized bungalows. Behind the darkly-tinted windows, Cammy and Valerie watched intently for their target. Val spotted it first.

"Third one on the right. Red bricks."

Cammy pulled over to the curb, and covered her head with a ski mask, while Val got ready to take over the wheel. The brunette tugged hard on the straps of her backpack as she stepped out of the SUV.

"Rendezvous with Romeo. You two be REAL careful -- do not underestimate your targets. Report in as soon as your objectives are met. Good luck."

"Yes, Cobra. Same to you." Val replied, her voice hardened to better match her mood. Her eyes kept scanning their surroundings, but the residential street was as motionless as one might expect at five o'clock in the morning. The night sky was now overcast and the moon was no longer visible.

The darkness suited Cammy just fine as she broke into a full sprint toward the red-bricked bungalow, her speed impressive as she ran in her knee-high boots. When she reached the fences at the side of the house, she hoisted herself up on the wood, ensured there were no surprises on the other side, and vaulted over.

Fifty feet later, she reached another set of fences, the end of the backyard. This time, she was careful in her approach, ducking to stay out of sight and peering over to observe her real target. Seeing no light nor movement, she quickly climbed over, and landed in the backyard and home of State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson.

The leader of the Cobra Crew was almost certain that the beautiful Lieutenant Dawson was home by herself, though she was sharing the space with another State Trooper, Melissa Holms. They knew Corporal Holms had the graveyard duty and, indeed, her car was nowhere to be seen. When they drove past her street earlier, the State Police cruiser and troopers who had provided protection for the policewoman was no longer present, which was also consistent with Agent Koch's report.

Another twenty-yard sprint later, the masked woman dropped to one knee with her side pressed against the ceramic bricks at rear of the bungalow. All was still, save for the soft whispers of a warm summer wind. After examining the simple patio door, Cammy took out a piece of magnet and fixed it near the lock. She patiently turned the magnet clockwise, until she heard the soft 'click' of the lock being disengaged.

She waited again, straining to listen for any reactions. Pleased with the simple break-in, Cammy was reaching for the door lever with her leather gloves when suddenly, a light came on in a bedroom in the home. Alarmed, the brunette pulled back and hid in the darkness. 

Moments later, the kitchen light came on, forcing Cammy to retreat to the side of the bungalow, but not before she caught a glimpse of a willowy shadow passing inside.

How the hell did she hear me? Cammy thought, her thumb releasing the trigger lock on her S&W .40. But no one came out to the backyard. Adding to her confusion, the masked woman heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. She hid behind the fence when the headlights sliced through the darkness, and Cammy heard the car pulling up on the Lieutenant's driveway.

What the hell? The brunette was truly concerned now, her eyes darting at the way she came from, half-expecting police in full tactical gear to descend on her position. She pressed on her headset and whispered, "I may have company. Standby".

"Want us to turn back? Over." Val replied quickly.

"Standby." The still of the night was restored when the car engine turned off, and... that was it. Cammy sighed with relief as it slowly became obvious she wasn't the target of a takedown. Moments later, the brunette carefully hugged the walls and moved toward the front of the bungalow. She watched from the darkness as someone climbed out of a late model, black Dodge sedan.

When the porch light came on, Cammy instantly recognized the tall, shaven man with the narrow eyes and hard lines on his face. She quickly ascertained that Field Commander Thomas Everette of the State Police, a married man, was probably not here on police business. 

"Everette just showed up. He may not be for long. I'm standing by but will proceed as planned. Repeat, proceed as planned."

"Copy that. Proceeding to rendezvous. Our objective, ETA, twenty minutes, over."

Cammy smiled to herself when she recalled watching scenes of Everette and the Lieutenant, both wearing nothing but their police caps, pleasuring each other with their mouths on her bed. It turned out that en-route to sleeping her way up the ranks, the hot police lieutenant kept explicit video evidence of her affairs, "just in case" things went sour. 

Unfortunately for the Lieutenant, the scheme backfired on the twenty-six-year-old when her videos were discovered and seized by the Cobra Crew during the Escobar raid. The trio thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the nine videos featuring "Lieutenant Slut" and her lovers. 

As Cammy suspected, Samantha appeared in the doorway briefly, wrapped up in a thin, silvery-grey robe. She giggled as the Field Commander whispered something to her. He glanced back at the empty street, before closing the door behind them.

Fascinated by the unexpected drop-in, Cammy scooted over to the nearest window and continued her observation of the couple. They were only steps into the house before the Commander cornered his petite subordinate to the wall. He looked imposing, dressed in full State Police uniform, with its dominating charcoal grey & black stripes shirt and pants. The Lieutenant seemed taken back by his aggression, but gave in to his advances, and the two locked lips in a fiery display of raw passion.

With little pretense, the hurried kisses quickly escalated into a tongue dual. Cammy looked around and realized she was in the perfect spot for an impromptu voyeur: a row of mature trees stood tall behind her, giving the house occupants full privacy from the neighbours. It was likely the reason Samantha didn't bother to close her curtains.




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 02



Cammy decided to take full advantage of her good fortunes. In seconds, she placed the pocket-sized camera on the windows ledge to record all the action in high-definition. She fiddled with the zoom until the faces of the two high-ranking cops were crystal clear on the screen.

It was like watching muted porn -- but live, Cammy thought as her heartbeat quickened. The masked woman licked her own chops as her eyes followed the Commander's hand brushing over the Lieutenant's smooth legs, caressing her bare thigh, until his palm disappeared under her robe. 

Samantha gasped and shuffled abruptly, no doubt reacting to his invasive touches. She swung her right leg around him, giving him more access to her ass. He snarled in pleasure, and his other hand latched on to her other butt cheek as well. As she arched forward to lean into his chest, his hands emerged to stroke her waist, and up her sides. Those busy hands lingered over her impressive set of tits, squeezing passionately through her thin cotton robe, until Samantha's nubs became visible through her clothing.

As the Commander's hungry lust manifested itself on the lovely Lieutenant, Cammy observed Samantha's growing attempts to squirm away from the towering senior cop, but he had her trapped. Samantha put up a warm smile on her face and said something to him, but he showed little interest in conversation. She bit her lips when he tugged on the silvery sash and jerked the two halves of her robe down her shoulders -- with authority.

He took a step back to admire her hot, curvaceous body, covered only by the thinnest, most see-through lingerie Cammy had ever seen. The rosy, sheer lace barely came up to the bottom half of her full breasts, and hid little of her pink, erect nipples. The expensive-looking teddy flowed like a mini-skirt just below her dainty waist, where Samantha's choice of underwear was an itty-bitty triangle of the same transparent material, barely held in place by a spaghetti-thin band.

The State Police Commander nodded his appreciation and rewarded her with a slow, deliberate sweep between her legs, at first pressing the G-string against her mound, before navigating around the fabric to explore her soft, brown bush. Cammy's breaths quickened at the sight of the female cop -- her eyes closed, crying out in pleasure. 

The Lieutenant opened her eyes to find his fingers inches from her face. They were sticky and coated with her own juices. He took a lick and offered them to her. 

"Suck it" The words out of his mouth were spoken so slowly, Cammy had no trouble reading lips. When Samantha hesitated, his left hand came up and roughly wrapped itself around her delicate neck. "Do it" He glared at her. She gasped in surprise before her lips curled themselves into an 'O' shape to accept his digits.

Despite her eagerness to please him, the Commander did not relax his grip, even as she groaned in protest. When he finally let go of her throat, it was done so he could slide her robe to the ground. He growled as he felt her up through the sexy teddy, savagely massaging each of her meaty globe. The medium blonde moaned as he went after her nipples, rolling each between his thumb and forefinger, tightening his grip with varying degree, and grinned as his fingers muffled her cries.

He leaned in and snarled something in her ear. The Lieutenant showed clear hesitation, even pleading with her eyes. But the Commander simply stared at her until she nodded. Everette was grinning ear to ear as he pulled out his handcuffs from the leather pouch, and she reluctantly offered her wrists to him. He leered with lust as he snapped the steel restraints on her. 

What's with these cops and their kinky games? Cammy shook her head. She recalled the lava-hot video of the Lieutenant, being dominated in the back of a police van by her Captain for a full thirty minutes. Their role-play of a prisoner overpowering his guard was unmistakable. In the video, Samantha was in full police uniform and bound in a number of positions with police-issued metal restraints. That recording was by far the Crew's favourite, as the scenes evoked vivid memories of their own games with the two Sheriff's Deputy hostages.

Samantha shut her eyes again as her bound wrists went down to her pussy. Her legs spread further at his command, and she began to touch herself lewdly as he looked on. Not satisfied with her pace, he grabbed her fingers and guided them up her cunt more aggressively. He barked at her again, and she made a show of sliding the pair of G-string down her legs -- not a simple task given the metal restraints. 

He pointed at her again. Her face was beet-red now, but Samantha ultimately bent over to pick up her glistening panties -- and proceeded to put the tiny underwear past her lips.

I'd totally gag that slut with my wet panties... Cammy thought as she drank in the titillating scene. The masked woman gently touched herself between her legs, unsurprised by the soggy sensation from her built-up wetness. She pushed harder and was rewarded with a wave of familiar pleasure pulsating through her. 

Cammy barely won the battle to keep her hand away from her pussy, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the heated encounter inside the bungalow.

Naked from the waist down, Samantha turned to face the wall. She writhed in heat as he bent over to caress her long legs, before his fingers converged at her labia, in search of her clit. She screamed when he followed up with a purposeful lick across her pussy folds. The Lieutenant begged him to continue with her deep, blue eyes, but he laughed and swatted her gorgeous ass instead.

He continued to finger and spank her until both ass cheeks turned crimson. He leaned against her naked backside and whispered something again. Alarmed by his suggestion, Samantha immediately spun and dropped to a crouching position. She discarded the panties from her mouth, and focused on the obvious bulge in his pants, now at her eye level. 

While she fumbled with the zipper on his uniform pants, he was busy stepping out of his leather shoes and releasing his equipment and gun belt. It was carefully set on to the floor tiles, and his trousers soon joined the pile. The police Lieutenant looked up with anticipation, and he simply nodded. A slight smile appeared on her face as she wrapped her fingers around his pole through his boxers.

The Commander's face really lit up when Samantha gently pried his rigid tool through the slit in the boxers. He shivered as she tickled his wet, sensitive head, first with her fingertips, then with her tongue. Cammy could not easily make out her words -- but whatever she said, he nodded vigorously. The mystery was solved moments later when her tongue left a trail of hot saliva from his balls, up his shaft, and topped with a twirl around his throbbing cock head.

Several minutes later, the Commander roared at the busy Lieutenant, getting her attention by taking a fistful of her hair. He could not take her expert teasing anymore. She gasped but quickly opened wide her mouth and swallowed his cock -- well, not quite swallow, Cammy corrected herself. To her amazement, the Lieutenant had no trouble going down on almost his entire length. She came up to gulp a deep breath, just before he shoved her head down again.

"What a fucking slut!" Cammy mouthed the words silently as she watched the Lieutenant's head bopped up and down, even as her shackled hands returned to her own wet pussy to give it some much-needed attention. They paused briefly for the Commander to get his boxers out of the way, and the fellatio resumed without skipping a beat.

The Commander's huffing and puffing was a clear sign he wasn't able to prolong the all-out assault on his cock. He yelled at the Lieutenant, who scrambled to her feet. She was pushed none-too-gently against the wall, rattling the picture frames along the wall. The "lovebirds" exchanged intense glares, before he asserted himself by taking her handcuffed wrists over her head -- and drove his cock deep into her.

Cammy was really pressing on her own pussy now, the moment their expressions of bliss and shock marked his successful entry. Heavy gasps, and long, hard thrusting followed. Samantha was putting up a token struggle, but ended up steering her cuffed wrists to wrap them around the base of his neck and press closer to him. She panted in approval when he rolled her nightie up to expose her bouncing titties, before burying his head in her mounds. 

The couple's primal cries were now loud enough for Cammy to hear, even through the closed window.

The pace of their strokes quickened and within minutes of walking through her front door, the Commander grunted and shot his load deep into the Lieutenant's cunt. At least, that's what Cammy assumed, as she watched him relax with a deeply sated expression. In contrast, she frowned and sighed deeply, even as a trail of cum began to trickle down her thighs. 

The Lieutenant gave him a peck on his cheeks and said something. Clumsily, he nodded and reached for a stack of Starbucks napkins lying on the beautifully crafted console table, and managed to catch some of the sticky fluids as he pulled out.

He grinned sheepishly, and Samantha looked up with her irresistible doe eyes -- and held out her handcuffed wrists at him. His post-fuck-sanity restored, the Commander reached for his dropped pants and rummaged through the pockets for the handcuffs key. 

The couple disappeared into the house for a while, no doubt cleaning up after themselves. It was Samantha who first returned, bending over in her rumpled nightie to wipe up the stains from the hardwood floor. She rubbed her wrists and studied them, apparently relieved the handcuffs marks were not too visible.

The Field Commander returned to the foyer soon after, having dressed, and the two engaged in what appeared to be a brief, awkward conversation. She just glared when he made a show of looking at his watch. It was a quarter past five, and to Cammy's relief, Field Commander Everette went for a quick peck on his subordinate's lips, put on his police cap, and walked out the door. Samantha lingered at the door but let it shut without waving goodbye.

As the Dodge reversed out of the driveway, Cammy caught a glimpse of Samantha's puffy and well-trimmed pussy, when she bent over again, this time to retrieve her G-string from the floor. The policewoman sighed visibly and disappeared down the hallway. Cammy took the time to shut off the camera, pleased after a quick preview of the clip. 

Video number ten, she thought. Her smile remained when she saw light coming from a narrow, frosted window at the side of the house. 

Perfect. The slut is taking a shower, Cammy thought, as she backtracked her way to the rear of the bungalow. The brunette rather enjoyed the unforeseen delay, but it was time to get things back on track.

After all, State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson was the first of many dominos to fall tonight.

***

Samantha was in a foul mood, even as hot water from the shower was gently massaging her sore body. She just wanted to wash all traces of the Field Commander off of her -- having already brushed her teeth and gargled mouthwash -- but specially to rid the sticky gob nestled inside her and around her thighs.

The fucking bastard! She fumed to herself. His second visit after... The Ordeal, and he had the nerves to pull out the handcuffs and going all rough on her. Worst of all, he couldn't even last long enough for me to cum. Fuck him!

"And there I go, thinking about The Ordeal again," Samantha thought, as she rubbed her tender breasts with a lather of body wash. The police shrink had urged her to "steer your thoughts from replaying the specifics of that evening", but they both knew that it was easier said than done.

Her mind were flooded with "the specifics of that evening" the moment Everette, with the stupid grin on his face, pulled out his shiny handcuffs. He couldn't even make it into her bedroom and give her a good, normal fuck. No, he had to cuff her, instantly conjuring up those unwelcoming images: the dirty, lustful leers from the federal prisoner, Escobar; the imposter deputy and her partner-in-crime pointing their guns to her head; the way they marched into her office and dreadfully tied her to her own desk...

And then there were the OTHER scenes -- the ones she chose not to tell anyone, especially the FBI vultures -- where they made her watch Escobar savagely fuck the hapless ATF Special Agent. The last thing she needed was more rumours floating around the station connecting her with the fetching blonde...

What she could not hide, of course, was that the two imposter cops proceeded to cut all her clothes off... and... made her do things. Did things to her. Nothing she hadn't really experienced before, granted, but not at gunpoint, and certainly not in her own office. The male and female duo used her like a sex toy, took all sorts of pictures and videos, carted all the Escobar evidence and weapons away, and left her in the most humiliating position possible. 

She was almost certain that the head of the Bomb Squad ordered everyone off the floor just so he could jerk off in front of her naked, bound, gagged and blindfolded form undisturbed -- while he "worked" to remove the vibrating device from her cunt, which turned out to be completely harmless. And he had the nerve to wink at her -- twice! -- at the station since. Unbelievable!

Then, there were the long, torturous "post-incident" interviews she had to endure, where the FBI-led task force did their best to interrogate her and poke holes into her story. In the weeks following The Ordeal, Samantha was reserving a spot of pure disdain for that cold-hearted bitch, Special Agent Natasha Cole of the FBI. 

Even under the monotonous beat of the running hot water, the Lieutenant could hear the FBI agent's subtle but piercing accusations -- thinly disguised as interview questions -- delivered in her stuck-up British accent. Samantha had heard stories about Agent Cole, about her being on loan from the Scotland Yards and a definite "up-and-comer" at the FBI...

Well, fuck her too.

Yet, by far the WORST for Samantha to endure was, actually, complete silence from the perpetrators -- since they were in possession of her prized "blackmail" videos. Samantha panicked every time at the thought of those explicit videos coming to light...

Field Commander Everette. Captain Barnard. Her roommate and BFF, Corporal Melissa Holmes. Separate encounters over a span of two years, all of them captured in high-definition, digital form -- all of them very obscene, each State Trooper in very compromising positions with her. Years of reputation... careers and families... would crumble to bits in the blink of an eye.

What are those nasty criminals going to do with the videos? Surely, by now, they had reviewed the content. Why haven't they contacted her? Samantha had e-mailed them her new password at work, just as instructed. But it's been weeks and...

Samantha was jolted out of her pondering when she thought she heard a door close. It was way too early for Melissa to be back from her graveyard shift, she thought. Maybe it was the wind -- did she leave a window open? 

Intending to finish up, she splashed water on her face and realized from her pruned fingertips that she had been in the shower far too long. She shut off the water and took the towel hanging on the glass door. As she patted her glistening skin dry, Samantha paused when she reached her neatly trimmed bush. Tenderly, she traced her fingers through her pussy lips. Yep, she was still wet, and it was definitely not traces of Everette. She shuddered at the touch -- and knew she had some unfinished business.

"Thanks for nothing, Commander" She grumbled aloud, after stepping out of the shower. She dried her hair as much as she could with the towel, and got dressed in a set of matching black-and-red, spandex sports bra and bottoms. The medium blonde sighed at the sensations of the cool material sliding across her glowing skin. 

As she adjusted the cross-over straps in the back and pulled up her boobs, Samantha looked in the mirror and instantly liked what she saw -- her pricey bra top was managing to make her set of full breasts even more impressive, with the top halves of her bosom squeezed upward and together, creating a healthy dose of cleavage that would be irresistible to any male (or female, for that matter) with a pulse.

She looked down and found herself admiring her taut tummy and long, smooth legs. The black underwear bottom fitted snuggly, accenting her slim waistline. Shortly after Everette left, Samantha decided to let out some steam by doing her two-mile run in the neighborhood. It's been a while... since The Ordeal, actually. Her round-the-clock protection crew, ordered by Everette, nixed the running. The State Police finally recalled the security detail last week, much to her relief.

But she stopped herself at the bathroom door. Her fingers wandered down between her legs again, and she could feel her wetness seeping on to the short-shorts. She shuddered again as she pressed harder... 

Samantha decided then: the jog can wait. 

The medium blonde scurried through the darkness, toward her bedroom at the end of the hallway.

So focused on digging out the thick dildo hidden in her closet, Samantha failed to notice she was not alone in her bedroom. She actually felt the cool rubber of her favourite sex toy on her fingertips -- before her head was suddenly yanked back by the gloved hand that wrapped around her mouth.

"DON'T move, and DON'T make a sound." The stern whisper reached Samantha's ear just as the cold metal barrel pressed against the side of her head. The policewoman's eyes widened with fear, her scream stifled in her throat.

"Hello, Lieutenant SLUT." There was no doubt whose body was pressing against her backside. The intruder closed in until Samantha could feel her breath in her ear. "My, don't you smell lovely." Samantha swallowed hard as she watched the barrel of the black handgun appear over her shoulder, brushing along her skin and poking at the top of her breasts. 

Samantha froze and watched as the gun wormed its way beneath her bra top. She gasped behind the leather glove when the cold metal made contact with her sensitive nipple.

"Nnnnn--" She breathed, as the assailant pressed hard against her, until Samantha could feel the woman's breasts sliding against her backside.

"You like this, slut?" Came the sultry whisper, and the gun slithered over, in search of her other tit. Despite her fear, the policewoman's breaths quickened at the tingling sensations of the hard steel drawing circles on her areola and tipping her erect nipples.

The medium blonde dared to sneak a look at the weapon violating her breasts and recognized it as a S&W .40 compact handgun. She thought of her own service weapon, a Sig Sauer semi-automatic, in her purse. Maybe if she could...

"Ahh-- oohhhh" Her thoughts were interrupted when the gloved hand slid down her chin, squeezed her throat gently, cupped her breast though her top, and examined her smooth tummy. Samantha shivered at the woman's touch, and sighed when the hand followed the tight contours of the spandex bottom, resting at the wet spot between her legs.

"Remember, not a sound, slut." Samantha was warned, so all she could do was inhale sharply as the gun continued to explore her breasts, while the hand stroked her sex through her pants until the sound of squishing plods became very audible in the enclosed space. The dual assault continued, until she was panting in heat.

"Come here." She was gripped by her hair and forced to turn her head to the side, where her attacker greeted her -- with her hot mouth. Samantha's surprised gasp was muffled when the incoming fiery lips landed on hers, followed with a juicy, forceful tongue wiggling its way into her mouth. The confused cop could feel her legs weakening as her long-awaited orgasm began to build...




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 02



"Already? Oh no, you don't, Lieutenant." The growing pleasure was abruptly replaced by sharp pain, as the woman kept her grip on her hair but ceased her stimulations. "Think you're going to cum that easily, slut? Uh-uh. You're going to have to earn that. Now, show me your hands." The gun barrel tapped hard against her skull. 

"Slowly, Lieutenant."

Her cheeks glowing in heat, the flustered policewoman complied.

"Good. Hold them high, over your heads. Let's move. Oh, please don't do anything stupid -- remember, we have those home-made videos of yours."

At the mention of those videos, Samantha found herself paralyzed with fear again as the dangerous criminal, known to her as "Cobra", half-dragged her out of the closet and back into her bedroom. 

Samantha's heart sank when the woman turned on the room lights. Whatever faint hope she had to grab her gun was squashed when she saw the content of her bag already scattered on the floor -- minus her gun, handcuffs, badge and ID card. The woman had obviously rummaged through her room.

"Let's get you nice and comfy, Lieutenant. We are going to play 'Twenty Questions' tonight -- MY rules. Nod if you understand."

The State Police Lieutenant groaned at the sight of the coil of rope strewn over her bed. With an overwhelming sense of helplessness, Samantha nodded in resignation.

***

About thirty miles away, State Police Corporal Melissa Holms and Police Cadet Annette Lin rode in their cruiser in silence, as they traversed along the dark and largely-empty freeway. The only noises in the large Ford sedan came from the aging engine and the occasional police radio chatter. 

Both Troopers were in their regulation State Police uniform, wearing the identical charcoal grey, short-sleeve shirts with their gold shield pinned above their breast pocket. They were protected by ballistic vests with the large, reflective POLICE label on the back. A couple of black stripes ran down the side of their matching uniform pants.

Annette stole a glance at her supervisor and noted (again) the uniform was a much better fit on the Corporal, a tall redhead with short, wavy hair. Melissa's fashion preferences were obvious -- she never wore her cap while driving, but always wore her leather fingerless gloves. Once the sun came up, so did her Ray Ban Aviators, shading her deep, brown eyes.

In comparison, Annette was a rookie -- in rank, experience and appearance. She hated the idea of trimming her lengthy, jet-black hair, so it was tied into a bun. Unfortunately, her petite form meant her uniform was at best a loose fit, even in a size small. 

But in the past week, her concerns had less to do with her cop-looks than her current partner.

Being on the "graveyard shift" with her new supervisor had been the most challenging -- and awkward -- experience in Annette's brief police career. Sure, she heard rumours that the attractive twenty-seven-year-old Corporal was a lesbian, but she never expected to be... hit on.

For Annette, the idea of being intimate with another girl never really entered her mind. With her slender form and "barely-nineteen" appearance, the police cadet knew she garnered men's attention, but she did not craved them. She thought little of relationships and sex...

... until she was stuck riding shotgun to Corporal Holms. For the most part, the Corporal was a dedicated professional; her cool, no-nonsense demeanour and logical approach to situations always commanded respect. However, during these lonely night patrols, Melissa was very different, opening up her personal live with her, and probably crossing the line by over-sharing her sexual preferences, while never missing a chance to compliment Annette on her appearance. 

In fact, Corporal Holms was becoming... brazen in her conversations, to the point of... sexual harassment? Annette knew enough not to displease her supervisor, whose recommendations could make-or-break her career. Her unwillingness to continue in these types of conversations usually resulted in long periods of awkward silence... 

Until Melissa started up again.

"So, Cadet Lin, have you ever been with a girl before?"

The deeply personal question was so direct, yet tossed out so casually, it took a moment to register in Annette's mind.

"Ex-excuse me?" She blurted out weakly. "I'm sorry, Madam?"

"You know what I mean, Cadet." An unmistakable emphasis was placed on her lower rank. "Have you ever been... intimate with another woman before?"

"I-- NO!! I... No, no, Madam. I mean, not that there's anything wrong--"

"You sound so shocked, Annette." The Asian could feel her ears burning. "Sometimes things just happen, you know? Especially in college. Let's say you and a bunch of girlfriends were out drinking. Spring Break, right? And everyone's dressed to kill. I'm talking lots of skin, tight skirts, showing off all those young, hot bodies. You know what I mean, Cadet?"

The penetrating gaze forced Annette to nod foolishly. The Corporal smiled and continued.

"It really doesn't take much. Everyone's had a few too many, with all the guys buying drinks, right? And you are stuck helping this really wasted babe get back to her room. You see her in class all the time. Blonde, always in her tight t-shirt, really short jeans. It's getting late, and you help her down on the bed."

"Madam, I don't--" Annette gulped, but the Corporal wasn't to be interrupted.

"The blonde hottie moans, you know, reaches for you. A gentle touch, just a brush of your face. And right there n' then, you decided you like being touched. By another woman. And you touch her shoulders. Oh, she's so soft. Cadet, are you with me?"

"I-- no Madam, I've never--"

"-- Just lying there, breathing softly, in her hot, skimpy red dress. Can't you see her? She loves red -- painted nails, glossy lipstick... okay, some green eyeliner. But that dress... so short, so revealing. Way above her knees. You lean closer, and watch her nice, firm breasts rising up and--"

"Madam, I--" Annette's throat was all clammy and she had to swallow hard to make herself heard. "Madam, we have to check that rest stop." She pointed at the fast approaching exit, lined with bright orange pylons. "The bulletin from Park Services last week--"

The police sedan swerved and the tires screeched in protest of the sudden shift in direction. But with no other traffic, the Corporal easily coaxed the heavy vehicle to a stop with enough room to navigate around the "Rest Stop Closed -- DO NOT ENTER" sign. 

Annette made a note in her patrol prep of the rest stop, since it was so easy to pass by. At the moment, she was really glad she paid attention.

"Very good, Cadet Lin." To Annette's amazement, her supervisor continued in the same matter-of-fact tone. "I will make a note of your attention to details. Park Services requested Troopers to patrol the closed rest stops while they're being renovated. Do you recall the reasons?"

"Yes Madam," Annette replied, much too eagerly. She didn't even try to hide her relief at the topic change. "Trespassing and break-ins. Missing tools, property damages, graffiti on the floors and walls, food and drink left behind, and..."

"And..?"

"U-used condoms." Annette's voice dropped to a whisper, her cheeks glowing in heat once more.

"Sorry, Cadet Lin, I couldn't hear you."

"U-used condoms were left behind, Madam." A mischievous smirk appeared on the Corporal's face.

"Now, what do you suppose-- hmm."

Something in the parking lot caught the attention of her supervisor. Amidst the shadows of construction vehicles casted by the cruiser's headlights, a glimmer reflected their beams. The Corporal allowed the cruiser to roll forward, before suddenly accelerating and steering toward her object of interest.

Even before Melissa hit the floodlight mounted on the side mirror, Annette spotted the silver Mercedes SUV, parked behind a concrete mixer truck. As they closed in, both State Troopers saw someone jumping out of the driver's side, and took off running.

"This is the State Police. Stop! Stay where you are!" Melissa ordered through the loudspeaker, training the floodlight at the fleeing shadow. The Corporal threw the cruiser in park, and sprang into action.

"Cadet, secure that vehicle and report our position. Go!" She hollered. In one motion, she grabbed her metal flashlight, pulled her weapon out of the holster, and jumped out of the police car.

"Madam, should I request back--"

"State Police! Stop!!" The Corporal was hitting her full stride, trying to keep the suspect in view. Annette had just taken several steps from the police car, but Melissa already disappeared behind the buildings, down into a wooded area. 

Annette fumbled for her own flashlight and inched towards the empty Mercedes. Her heart was beating wildly now -- she had never done this by herself. When Annette rested on the butt of her Smith & Wesson M&P 9mm handgun, she could feel perspiration forming in her hands.

Deep breathes and stay focused on the task at hand, Annette told herself, recalling her training. All was still as she came up to the SUV. She swept her flashlight across the German vehicle, completed a circle around it, relieved to find no one.

"Corporal, suspect vehicle secured. Come in, Corporal." When Annette realized she could no longer hear her supervisor in the field, she reached for her shoulder-mounted radio. She waited for a response, but the radio remained silent.

"Corporal Holms? Please come in, over." Again, silence greeted her. Even the typical hiss and static were absent. Her heart was thumping again, and the petite Asian started toward the woods, but her orders were to report their position. She tried raising the dispatcher, but again, no one replied. 

Fighting off fears, Annette thought of using the car radio -- maybe her equipment was malfunctioning. As she backtracked past the SUV, she caught sight of a tablet device on the rear seat. Curious, she took a closer look at the glowing screen -- and reacted with a loud gasp.

Annette saw her own State Police bio picture, next to an image of Corporal Holms. Their names, ranks and roster schedule were there. There was even a map with their patrol route marked, along with timestamps.

Shocked, her mouth agape, the Cadet spun to run -- but instead, screamed at the appearance of a woman just six feet away. The woman stood with her feet spread apart and arms outstretched -- and both her hands clutching a gun that was trained on Annette.

"Whh-- oh my god." Annette whispered. She almost fainted in horror when the red laser beam from the gun landed right between her eyes.

"Gotcha, cop." A youthful, teasing voice replied. "My, you are even prettier in person. Listen carefully, Cadet Annette Lin, if you wanna fuckin' live."

The shocked State Trooper was still trying to process the image of the armed woman: young (college age?), short (still taller than her). Dressed completely in black. Skin-tight, sleeveless top -- impressive swells, deep cleavage. Tight yoga pants, curvy rear. Mask covering her face. And yes, the gun. Some type of semi-automatic. No chance of missing at that distance -- definitely not with the laser sight.

"Did you hear me, you dumb police cunt?!" The young woman screamed, causing Annette to nod in fear. "Fuck! Listen, honey, very slowly, lose that equipment belt. And you stay the FUCK away from the gun, or you get it right between your eyes. Understand?!" 

Her head spinning, Annette thought she nodded. Her movements were slow and painfully stiff.

"Good. REALLY slow there, honey. Put everything on the ground. Hey, hey-- SLOWLY, CUNT!!"

With her trembling hands barely holding on to the belt, Annette finally mustered up some courage to speak.

"You can't do this--"

"Hey, SHUT THE FUCK UP, cunt!!" The woman took a menacing step forward, instantly silencing Annette. "Did I say you can open your fucking mouth?! No!! Just do as you're told and don't fuckin' stall."

Annette gingerly set her entire equipment belt, with the M&P 9mm still in its holster, down on the pavement. There goes her only hope, the cadet thought bitterly. 

Then Annette remembered her supervisor, in the woods somewhere. Maybe she caught the bad guy and was on her way back... 

"All right, honey, come forward one step -- good, stop." Annette obeyed, hoping to appease the armed woman. But she wasn't prepared at the next order at all.

"Time to strip, cop. I want your uniform."

***

State Police Corporal Melissa Holms finally had to stop and catch her breath. As she rested her forearm on a tree branch, she looked around desperately with her flashlight, but there was no sign of the suspect. 

Her foray into the forest was impeded by wild bushes, low-hanging branches and uneven terrain. She had to re-holster her M&P 9mm, since a free hand was desperately needed to keep balance. It did not help that she could see no more than a couple of feet in front of her. The skies were turning overcast, and the tall maples and birch trees were blocking out the remaining moonlight.

"State Police! Come-- come out-- with your hands-- up." She called out again, her voice breaking between her rapid breathes. When Melissa thought she heard rustling behind her, she instinctively spun around with her flashlight, but there was no one there.

"Where the hell did he go?" She thought. In frustration, Melissa grabbed her shoulder-mounted radio. 

"Cadet, come in." She said, "What's your status? Over."

To her annoyance, her radio stayed silent.

"Come in, Cadet Lin. I am not receiving you. If you can hear me--"

That was when she heard a scream in the distance. The screamer -- to Melissa's horror -- sounded an awful lot like Annette.

"Oh shit..." Fearing a trap, Melissa scurried back toward the parking lot. She paused to draw her weapon at various noises, only to re-holster when there were no signs of her suspect. She pressed on until she could almost see the rest stop again.

"Cadet Lin!" She cried out, hoping for a response. But all she heard was the light breeze and rustling leaves on the cool summer night.

"Cad-- WHOAaaa -- oooopphh-- ugh" 

In hurried steps one moment, the policewoman tripped -- over a wire? -- and fell head-first to the uneven ground before she knew it. She managed to break the fall with her hand, but the metal flashlight crashed against a rock and bounced away from her, lifeless.

Melissa was in the dark and on the ground when a heavy presence pounced on her. She cried out in pain, feeling the weight of a knee jammed against her spine. He -- and his large gloved hand -- seized her right wrist with authority, twisted it upward and pinned her hand to the small of her back. 

Before Melissa could react, she felt the cold steel of handcuffs snapping on her wrist. She thrashed about with her legs, but stopped when a hard object was shoved against the back of her neck.

"Kick again and I will shoot you."

She tensed up at the chilling threat, and he proceeded with cuffing her left wrist. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Melissa breathed. Her attacker ignored her, taking her service weapon from the holster with expertise. He effortlessly pulled her to her feet, then threw her hard against a maple tree. His gloved hand enclosed around her throat, and through her watery eyes, all she could make out was a pair of smirking eyes staring at her from behind his mask. He slapped her across the face, twice, before addressing her.

"Cadet Lin is all right -- for now. Resist, and you both pay the price."

"Annette-- you can't--" She gasped, as he raised the gun muzzle to her head. "W-we are State Troopers..."

"Oh, I know." He allowed himself a slight smile. 

"That's why we're here. Now shut up and walk."



Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 03



Lots of hot-and-heavy action in the third part of this five-part story. I love to hear your feedback!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

============================

State Police Cadet Annette Lin willed her trembling fingers to undo the buttons on her uniform shirt. She had taken off her police cap and protective vest moments earlier and placed them on the hood of her cruiser, as instructed.

The Cobra Crew's objective to capture the two State Troopers was unfolding just as planned. As expected, Corporal Melissa Holms took the bait to chase Ryan into the woods, leaving Val the easy job of surprising the young cadet. 

Divide and conquer, Val thought as she kept her silver-chromed .40 semi-automatic trained on her target. Any minute now, the Corporal would be ambushed by her boyfriend...

"Hurry UP, cunt! This ain't a fuckin' striptease!!" Val hollered, even as she was enjoying every second of the striptease. The masked young woman could feel her own wetness building as she watched the pretty State Trooper undress. Her delicate hands were at her second button now-

- and the grey uniform shirt parted further, revealing a yellow tank top underneath. When she fumbled open another button, Val leered at the swell of her breasts. The uniform was hiding her small but shapely frame, Val noted. 

The only thing that would make Val happier was if she was stripping the little police bitch herself. But she was heeding Cammy's warning, and kept her distance.

"Fuck! Let's go!!" As enjoyable as this was, they didn't have all night. "Listen, honey, I'm a-count to thirty, and you better have your shirt, pants and shoes on that fucking car. You can do it the easy way fast, or I can do it the FUN way - but it'll be a hell lot more PAIN for you. ONE-"

The police cadet sobbed aloud, but picked up the pace. Soon she was shrugging the shirt off her shoulders, relinquishing her uniform. She shivered in the cool of the night and instinctively tried to cover herself, but realized that she couldn't reach her pants that way.

"-THIRTEEN" Val shouted, taking a step closer to Annette.

"Please," She cried, struggling with her pants. The petite cop almost tripped when she tried to step out of them without taking off her shoes. Val licked her chops at the thin, smooth legs on her. Annette bent over to quickly undo her shoelaces, giving Val a healthy view down her tank top.

"TWENTY-FIVE..."

"There," The officer panted, dropping her uniform pants on the hood of the car just in time. She looked extra vulnerable, standing there with an arm folded over her breasts, and the other one just over her crotch. 

"Too bad, honey, I was all ready to help." Val chirped, then gestured with her gun. "Now put your fucking hands behind your head. DO IT!" 

Reluctantly, the policewoman obeyed. 

Val wished she had her camera on her, so she could record the gorgeous sight of the pretty officer, standing half-naked next to her own police cruiser. 

With her hands raised, the tank top barely covered her flat tummy, exposing her belly button. The straps of her vanilla-coloured bra were showing, and Val couldn't wait to get her hands on those perky titties that seemed to fill those B-cups so well. Her off-white, bikini-cut Calvin Klein panties appeared to be well-worn, but the simplicity of her underwear had its unique appeal. 

"Mmm-mmm. Now turn around and bend over."

"What?"

"Assume the fucking position, cunt!" Val grabbed her arm and spun her around to get her going. "Yeah, turn around, and-" She placed her gloved hand on the back of the trembling officer, as well as a couple of solid taps to her feet to get her legs apart. "Stay down, right here on the hood, honey. That's a good cunt. Now don't you dare move..."

Annette's jutting ass was so inviting to the criminal that she almost ripped off those panties on the spot. Instead, she scooped up the policewoman's own handcuffs from her discarded equipment belt. 

"You have the right to remain silent. Fuck, I've always wanted to say that- to a cop cunt like you." Beaming with excitement, Val performed the arrest procedure on the helpless officer. She snapped one cuff over her left wrist, then roughly plucked her arm down behind her back. She loved the sound of the clicking metal as she tightened the cuffs. She seized Annette's right wrist and snapped the other cuff on her.

"Ow!" The rookie cop whimpered. This gave the excuse Val was looking for, and she swatted Annette's inviting bottom - hard. She also took the opportunity to give her firm ass a good, hard squeeze.

"You and me, honey, we're going to have lots of fun together." The masked young woman slithered against Annette's backside, wrapping her arm around her slender neck and pushing the gun muzzle against the back of her head, just below her hair bun.

"Wh- wh- what are you doing??"

"I love pretty, helpless cops..." Val sighed, her thoughts wandering back to all the fun she had with the two female deputies a few weeks ago. Her gloved hand drifted along her captive's chest, and it didn't take long before she squeezed both breasts through the tank top and bra. Annette jumped in surprise and squirmed to get away from Val.

"Noo- mmmpphh"

"Uhh-uh, honey. Shut the fuck up!!" She hand-gagged the struggling policewoman and clinched her tightly. "God, you're so soft. I could just eat- ah look, here comes your partner now."

Val pivoted with the wide-eyed cadet as a handcuffed Corporal Melissa Holms emerged from the woods, with Ryan tailing closely behind, gun in hand. As they got closer, Val could see the attractive redhead was given an extra accessory around her neck - a red nylon collar, leashed to a metal chain. Ryan had the rest of the chain wrapped around his closed fist.

The leash was wonderfully effective in restricting the Trooper's movements. Melissa looked up anxiously - and her jaw instantly dropped open at the sight of her stripped down partner. Her eyes darted over to Val, who still had Annette wrapped tight, gun to her head. 

Val could tell much of Corporal's attention was on the police cadet's hot body. Of the two wide-eyed policewomen, it was the black-haired beauty who looked away in shame when their eyes met.

"Wha-" It was then Melissa spotted the discarded uniform on the police cruiser. "Annette, ar-are you okay?"

"She WON'T be okay if you fuck around, cunt!" Val hollered, jamming the gun barrel into Annette's face. To Ryan, her voice was honey-sweet. "Did the bitch give you any trouble?"

"No, babe. Your plan was perfect." He smiled, prodding the veteran cop along.

"All righty! Now that everyone's here," The excited masked woman cupped Annette's inviting breasts again, instantly drawing the stunned Corporal's attention. "Let's get you two police bitches all comfy, then we can hit the road."

"You're... kidnapping us?? Are you serious?" Melissa swallowed, tugging at her handcuffs. 

"Yeah. Duh. Unless you rather be shot." Val said, a wicked smile forming on her face. She let go of her trembling captive, and activated her earpiece.

"Come in, boss, Vixen here. Objective Silver and Bronze completed... Yes, that's an affirmative. Moving to secure for transport. Roger that. No, these bitches ain't goin' nowhere, COBRA." Val was careful to watch the reaction on their captives' face as she uttered those words. Their terrified expressions told her both State Troopers got the message.

They were being abducted by the Cobra Crew.

***

"Well, Lieutenant, we're gonna have company soon." Cammy said casually, shutting off her earpiece. She sauntered over to the digital camera, mounted on a tripod and operating as a video camera for the last twenty minutes, to swap out for a new memory card. Once up and running again, the criminal turned her attention back to "Objective Gold" - Lieutenant Samantha Dawson - and delivered a sharp, stinging slap to Samantha's bare ass. 

"Did you hear me, slut?" She repeated her spanking, until the medium-blonde squawked behind her gag and nodded keenly.

Samantha's gag was a makeshift one, a pair of her roommate's plum-coloured lacy panties. The moaning Lieutenant held the worn underwear between her teeth, as ordered. She was slumped over on her slate grey, suede-padded ottoman in her bedroom, recovering from a massive, long-awaited orgasm. 

Her climax was facilitated by Cammy, whose tongue attack over her little clit, coupled with the deep ramming of her soaked pussy with her own dildo, sent the Lieutenant into an uncontrollable frenzy. The woman's pleasured wails were so loud that Cammy had no choice but to cram the panties into her mouth. That worked to lower the volume somewhat - until Cammy finished the assault by squeezing her lubricated thumb into Samantha's puckered anus.

On the second twirl of her thumb, her hostage shuddered breathlessly and soaked Cammy's chin. With a smirk, the leader of the Cobra Crew stepped back and watched the orgasm consume the lovely Lieutenant. 

I'm way too nice to our blackmailed cops, Cammy mused, as she wiped off Samantha's juices from her face. The priceless expression of bliss on the face of ATF Special Agent Jessica Koch, with her hand down her own pussy, was still fresh on Cammy's mind. 

The extraction of info from the two turned police bitches turned out to be a lot of fun, Cammy thought.

Earlier, to set the scene for Samantha's questioning, Cammy made her captive get down on her hands and knees, positioned over the ottoman. Samantha's wrists and knees were tied to the stylish U-shaped, stainless-steel legs of the heavy furniture. The Lieutenant whimpered when the brunette produced a knife, and held still when the leader of the Cobra Crew cut away her sports bra. 

With Samantha's weighty tits freed, Cammy toyed with them, applying varying levels of pressure on her dangling nipples. Meanwhile, she poked a hole with the tip of the knife in the Lieutenant's black and red, spandex shorts, just between her tight ass buns.

"My rules are dead simple, Lieutenant." She gripped the chin of the timid cop. "I have questions that you're going to answer, truthfully and thoroughly. If I think you're telling the truth and providing enough details, I'll give you pleasure-" She gently caressed Samantha's spandex-covered crotch, taking note of the emitting heat and slickness. The bound cop sighed as Cammy's expert fingers wormed their way through the rip in the fabric, marking a trail until she spread her pussy lips apart.

"- you like pleasure, don't you, slut?"

"Uh- uh- nn- I m-mean, oohhh- AHHH" Cammy's fingers easily burrowed their way deep into Samantha. "Y-Yes. I-I like pleasure."

"I see you're catching on, Lieutenant. You're to address me as Mistress Cobra, understand?"

"Y-Yes, oohh. Yes, Mistress. Oh, I mean, Mistress Cobra." After a few thrusts, Cammy pulled her fingers back and held them in front of the bound Lieutenant. 

"What? Waiting for a fucking invitation?"

"No, Mistress Cobra"

With a cringe, the medium-blond gingerly stuck out her tongue and tasted herself. Cammy saw the same expression of reluctance earlier, when Field Commander Everette did the same to the Lieutenant. It didn't appear as if she was a fan of her own wetness, so Cammy twirled her fingers inside the woman's mouth until they were wet with Samantha's saliva.

"Back to the rules." Cammy said, after taking the woman's ruined bra top to wipe herself. "So we got the pleasure part. But if I think you're fuckin' lying to me, playing games, stalling, or any shit like that-" She found the leather riding crop from her bag, and in one swift motion, lashed out at the woman's defenseless pussy. Even with the spandex absorbing most of the impact, the Lieutenant screamed in surprise and pain.

"-I'll give you pain. Plenty of it."

And Cammy wasn't finished with her demo. The tip of the crop came around to smack down on Samantha's swinging tits, barely missing her sensitive nipples. The strikes were just several hard taps, but the Lieutenant was already shaking in fear.

"Simple, right? Pleasure-" Her hand moved to soothe Samantha's bare tits - then pinched and twisted her nipples. "-or pain. I have a huge, shiny new strap-on in the bag, and I've been DYING to try it on someone." Samantha shook her head vigorously, pleading in silence.

"Your choice, Lieutenant."

So for the last twenty minutes, the Lieutenant elected mostly for pleasure, satisfying Cammy's queries into the inner workings of the State Police. Cammy didn't mind her occasional hesitation, since it meant she could deploy the crop on Samantha. In short order, the criminal ascertained details on the day-to-day operations, the station culture, and the unwritten rules, information not found in official documents, floor plans, or policies & procedures. 

As the wet spot on Samantha's spandex shorts grew completely saturated, the blonde was no longer coherent, her answers broken up by her heated gasps. Cammy responded by punishing her with the crop, leaving red marks on her delicate flesh, but that only seemed to drive the Lieutenant even closer to the edge. With a sigh, Cammy relented, took out the woman's own dildo, tore off Samantha's shorts and finished her off.

With her Crew set to rejoin her soon, Cammy had a decision to make. She stared hard at the gorgeous, bound policewoman at her feet, and for the second time tonight, desires trumped logic.

"My turn, Lieutenant."

By the time Samantha looked up with her inquisitive blue eyes, Cammy was already in her sexy emerald bra, and wiggling out of the leather mini-skirt. She took out the saliva-laden panties from the Lieutenant's mouth, and kissed her deeply. Samantha dared not resist, allowing her mouth and tongue to be ravished by Cammy. 

When they broke the kiss, Cammy rose until her hostage was given a close-up to her full, round tits.

"You remember these, don't you? Give 'em some love." She ordered. Samantha gulped audibly at the beautiful breasts before her - somehow they were even more inviting now than several weeks ago, when 'Mistress Cobra' forced her to perform the same task back in Samantha's office room.

"Yes, Mistress"

The Lieutenant leaned forward and planted kisses on Cammy's tits, alternating between the smooth flesh and the lacy bra. It didn't take long for the leader of the Cobra Crew to unclasp her bra. She seductively slid the lacy material off, then shook her titties until Samantha's face was pillowed in her bosom. The Lieutenant continued kiss them, targeting the erect nipples with her tongue.

Cammy moaned and slowly rose, allowing her captive to taste her taut tummy. With one hand fondling her own tits, the brunette inched closer until Samantha saw nothing but the lacy triangle of her captor's panties. But it was the sight - and smell - of the obvious dark patch at the woman's crotch that had the Lieutenant's full attention.

"Mmmm." Cammy sighed as she fingered herself, making plenty of obscene squishing noises. "You don't mind if I take a pair of your undies later, do you?" 

"No, M-Mis-tress Cob- Ahhmmpphhh" Without warning, Cammy drove forward, slamming her hot, musky crotch into Samantha's face. Still tied tightly to the ottoman, the Lieutenant had nowhere to go. Ignoring her plight, Cammy took full control when she dug into Samantha's soft, silky hair and clenched her head with both hands.

"Ohhh... yaaaa" Cammy exhaled, as her heated snatch slathered over her hostage's delicate facial features. The brunette was lost in the sensations of her wet slit rubbing against the fine panty lace and Samantha's hot, tender skin.

Minutes later, the brunette was humping her bare, shaven pussy against the helpless cop, with her right leg raised and her feet treading on the woman's back. Her fingers were drenched as they held the crotch piece aside. 

The Lieutenant was doing her best under the circumstances, as her entire face was being coated with Cammy's ample and gooey secretions. She yelped when the riding crop thundered down on her vulnerable, jutting ass.

"Tongue me, slut!! Harder!! Fuck, fuck... fuckkkkk-"

***

State Police Corporal Melissa Holms strained her neck again to see what the pair of Cobra Crew were up to, but they had stepped away from view. Frustrated, she turned until she was face-to-face with her young, pretty cadet partner. On eye contact, Annette's doe, deep-brown eyes immediately darted away, but she couldn't avoid Melissa's inquisitive glance. Instead, the distressed rookie cop squeezed her eyes shut.

The five-year-veteran knew they were in some serious trouble. First off, both on-duty State Troopers were no longer in their uniforms. Shortly after her capture, for a brief minute, Melissa had her handcuffs removed - for the sole purpose of stripping down to her underwear. 

"Your fucking uniform on the hood - in sixty seconds, tops." The petite masked woman told her. "Any fuck-ups and you can watch your pretty partner die." 

"Oh Corporal, you can keep those gloves on."

With the agitated masked woman holding a gun to Annette's head and her towering accomplice holding the leash to her collared neck, the Corporal never really had a choice. In fifty seconds flat, Melissa stood there with her hands on her head, looking incredibly hot in her tight-fitting Nike workout bra and panties set - and her biker gloves. Her generous rack stole the spotlight, but her flawless bronzed skin and toned body were simply irresistible, and even her shy cadet partner couldn't help but check out Melissa's gorgeous form.

Shivering from the cool of the summer morning, the under-dressed Troopers were dumped into the spacious trunk of their own police cruiser. The two policewomen were made to lie on their side and hogtied with copious amount of rope, in addition to "wearing" their own handcuffs. The hulking male was most efficient with the rope, rapidly binding their arms above their elbows, knees and ankles, unpleasantly bending their legs back until their toes were touching their hands.

Then there was the fact that the two female cops were bound to each other. Melissa could see the sneer in his eyes when he tightened the rope that pressed their scantily-covered breasts together, followed by the rope around their waist, and a third coil around their thighs. 

There were also the incredibly restricting, matching collars around their necks, both clipped to a short chain that left barely an inch of space between their noses. Another source of humiliation was the identical bright red rubber ball stuffed into her mouth, with the strap tightened behind her head. Unsurprisingly, Annette received the same gag treatment.

Aside from effectively keeping them from crying out for help, the ladies found they had to turn their heads regularly to prevent their drool from escaping from the corner of their mouth. There was already a shiny trail running down Annette's cheek, Melissa noticed.

In their state of bondage, any movement was a struggle, and instantly resulted in the not-unwelcoming caress of their soft, warm flesh. But the overwhelming sensation arose from the rope that was pulled tight between their legs, across their panty-covered crotches. "Gotta keep you police cunts entertained, don't we?" Their cruel female assailant said, happily adding the evil contraption after her accomplice had completed his work. It didn't help that "Vixen" took the opportunity to grab and grope their meaty butt cheeks through (and under) their panties while doing so.

In any other situation where she was overpowered by a pair of most-wanted criminals, Melissa would be angry, perhaps afraid, and motivated to escape. Yet, at the moment, Melissa was more occupied with fighting her lust for the twenty-two-year-old Police Cadet. 




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 04



The pace really picks up as the Cobra Crew execute their audacious caper. We are nearing the end after this lengthy fourth episode in the five-part story. As always, enjoy the ride and share your feedback with me!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

====================

Ryan wandered through the bungalow, carefully closing off all the heavy curtains, putting away any objects which might be used as a weapon. With that done, he could move on to having more fun with his captives.

Because "Business First", he mused. 

... Then pleasure. 

All three policewomen hostages were presently tied and gagged, and Ryan added blindfolds for them so he could move about without scrutiny.

The former linebacker had always been fascinated by panties and lingerie, so after he finished securing the premise, he strolled into Lieutenant Samantha Dawson's closet, and rummaged through her drawers one-by-one. The Lieutenant did not disappoint, as he discovered a wide range of sexy intimates, from the skimpiest G-strings to silky nighties. Ryan cracked into a wide smile as he dipped his greedy hands into the mother lode.

Ryan had long decided he needed to see the hot policewoman prancing in these sizzling underthings - before ripping them off her scorching body. It was not easy, but Ryan managed to select six pairs of uber-hot panties and three pieces of lingerie out of the mix. Taking a long whiff of the Samantha's scent from her intimates, he got to work on making his private "Victoria's Secret" fashion show a reality.

As suspected, Corporal Melissa Holms' underwear collection was nowhere as interesting as her roommate's, since she possessed mostly sports-style or casual briefs. What he did find, and apparently often accessed, was a cache of sex toys, complete with different shapes and sizes of strap-ons and vibrators.

"Why this one looks interesting." He said, a little loudly, getting the attention of the redhead officer, who was sprawled out on her own bed, her wrists tied above her head to the corners of the bedframe. Ryan had left the spreader bar in place, selecting to secure the bar to the foot of the bed.

As he took a seat on the mattress, his hand was automatically drawn to her heaving breasts. Ryan examined the device in his hand, and found the ON switch. The purple vibrator came to life, humming and shaking. It had Melissa shaking her head too, no doubt recognizing the buzz.

What she could not see was Ryan applying K-Y jelly to both heads of the sex toy. The purple vibrator had the usual, regular-sized and phallus-shaped tube, but this device also had a shorter, adjustable branch, designed for simultaneous anal penetration.

Without a word, Ryan took a pillow and worked it under the fine ass of the struggling Corporal. He leaned in for another sample of her delicious pussy, getting her previously-well-lubed passage to juice up again in no time. The bound policewoman thrashed about in shame anger, but slowed when she felt the plastic head of the vibrator at her pussy lips.

She pleaded through a series of gagged talk, but could only moan when the phallus penetrated her effortlessly, followed by the smaller tip reaching her puckered opening. Not expecting the lubricant, Melissa groaned into her ball gag when her asshole was stretched open and invaded. The redhead took deep breathes to still and relax herself - after all, "Mr. Purple" was among her favourites. She sighed in content when both ends of the device filled her and occupied her with a steady quivering in her most sensitive parts.

"Time to share your toys with your friends. After all, sharing is caring." Ryan told his moaning captive, pinching her nipples as he stood. "Too bad there's no king-sized bed here, or you could all be snuggling together." 

Melissa did not mind the imagery.

With the dual-ended sex toy humming away, Ryan failed to notice the burst of text message alerts vibrating from Samantha's phone, which he had gathered along with the other phones, and dumped into one of their duffel bags. 

As a result, Ryan had no idea a nervous Field Commander Everette was pacing in his office, hoping for an "all's forgiven" text from his illicit lover.

When the Field Commander did not get a reply to his barrage of messages, he swore at himself for pushing Samantha too far, and made plans to sneak out later in the morning to make sure she was doing okay. 

***

"Three, five, five, eight, two, three..." With no visible emotion, the faux redhead State Trooper punched in the code at the gate, while her tense passenger looked around. The main entrance was not far away, and Val could see two security guards with MP5s slung over their shoulders, chatting with one another. Neither of them would pay any attention to a returning police cruiser, unless the return code was incorrect -

Then the reinforced metal gate shrieked and rolled away. Both women sighed in relief as Cammy drove the cruiser through.

It was impossible to miss the "Tire Spikes - DO NOT BACK UP - SEVERE DAMAGE TO VEHICLE" warning signs, so Cammy knew they would have to leave through the manned entrance / exit later. 

Right now, however, it was all about getting inside the heavily guarded State Police headquarters building. 

In that sense, both Cammy and Val were very confident. With their appearances under top-notch disguise and both dressed in the stolen police uniforms, they would simply stroll through the halls of Division One - even with the increased security measures, of which they were responsible for.

Since the Cobra Crew's freeing of federal prisoner Escobar from custody at East Hastings, embarrassed State Police officials were forced to beef up security at all their locations. The set of unpopular measures included: photo IDs must be visible at all times; pass cards must be used to access secured areas; visitors accessing sensitive areas must be assigned escorts for the duration of their visit.

Unfortunately for the State Police, the new security rules did little to prevent the two female members of the Cobra Crew from wearing doctored photo IDs, while breezing through secured areas with Lieutenant Dawson and Corporal Holms' pass cards. 

After all, police never truly expected their own officers to be held hostage and impersonated - even if that was the basic premise of how the Cobra Crew gained entry into the East Hastings building in the first place.

Once they parked their cruiser in the designated spot, the pair split up, following separate routes throughout the enormous State Police headquarters to avoid extra attention. Between their own intel and Samantha's information, they had little trouble finding their way around. It was now eight in the morning, so both police and civilian staff were beginning to file into the building. Cammy and Val were just two more faces in the crowd, easily blending with the other uniforms and people around them.

Their target was the Property & Evidence Archives room, located at the rear of the building, adjacent to Forensic Labs. In their borrowed identities, the pair greeted each other with a quick nod when they met up outside the archives room.

While Val acted as lookout, Cammy pushed the doors open and boldly approached the desk.

"Can I help you?" The tired-sounding clerk inquired, barely looking up from the computer to meet the visitor. Cammy was surprised by the sight of the slim blonde - she was no older than twenty-years-old, Cammy figured - so young that she must be some kind of intern. 

Perfect.

The armed male guard in the room would pose more of a challenge. The stone-faced young man was seated by the entrance to the archives room, looking up to size up the fine-looking policewoman.

"Corporal Melissa Holms. I need to check-in evidence." Cammy ignored the guard's stares, instead bringing up a backpack into view for the young clerk. Her eyes were still glued to the screen, so Cammy decided to gawk at the young woman's cleavage from her parted blouse until she turned.

"Scan your pass card." She frowned and glared at Cammy, retaliation for the lustful stare received. Without a care, Cammy continued to ravish the clerk's hot body with her eyes.

"How many items"

"Nature of items"

"Item category"

The most monotonous and terse exchange followed, broken up only by the slowest keystrokes ever witnessed by Cammy. The little bitch was giving her attitude, and Cammy was pissed. Minutes passed, to the point where the leader of the Cobra Crew seriously contemplated ending the charade there and then. It was with much self-control her weapon stayed in the holster.

"Take out your items and put them there." The clerk finally finished her checklist, waving to a long table near the guard. Cammy exhaled a deep breath through her flared nostrils, walked over and opened the backpack. Both guard and clerk watched the uniformed Trooper took out the first two bags marked as "evidence", but when the clerk turned to retrieve the scan code labels from the printer, she did not see the uniformed Trooper pulling a dual-shot Taser from her sack.

By the time the guard perceived the Taser was not evidence and being pointed at HIM, the two sharp needles fired from the weapon punctured the skin near his ribs and chest, and electrical currents surged through his body. His mouth was agape, but no sound came out.

The actions of the Taser were muffled by the whirling hums of the active laser printer, but by the time the clerk spun around, the sight of the wide-eyed guard slumped over in his chair was impossible to miss.

"Paul? Are you okay? What happened to-" The clerk was interrupted by the sight of Val, who rushed into the office with her M&P 9mm raised, sweeping over the fallen guard.

At the same time, Cammy tossed away the spent Taser and vaulted over the desk for the clerk. Her hand immediately covered the stunned woman's mouth. 

"Shut up!" She ordered, staring into the terrorized eyes of the property clerk. "Shut up, CUNT, or you are dead." She added, reaching for her holstered weapon. The young woman was almost hyperventilating when the gun muzzle pressed into her neck.

Both Cammy and the clerk turned at the sound of a muted thud, as Val took the butt of her gun and smashed it hard into the guard's noggin. He was now completely knocked out, slipping out of his chair and on to the floor.

"Get up." The leader of the Cobra Crew grabbed the front of the clerk's blouse, pulling her up from the chair. As her shaky legs struggled to hold her up, the young intern was shoved to the wall, rattling various framed certificates.

"Listen very carefully... Claire Brenan." Cammy glared at the photo ID worn around the clerk's neck. "Do you want to die?"

"Ohmygod no... please, I'm-just an intern, I-I..."

"Then shut the fuck up and do as you're told. I'm taking this-" Cammy hissed, yanking the lanyard of access cards from the woman's neck. She tossed them to a waiting Val, who already had the card belonging to Corporal Melissa Holmes in her hand. She took the cards and tapped them in sequence on the scanner, watched the flashing lights turn green, and the electronic locks on the Archive doors released. 

"Move it!!" The faux redhead shoved the whimpering clerk ahead as Val struggled with the weight of the guard, but eventually dragging him into the Archives room by his armpits. 

"Hands on your head, Claire Brenan, or they'll find your body right here." Cammy growled, as she found the light switch panel and threw everything on.

The State Police's Property & Evidence Archives room was in fact a small warehouse, where giant fans whirled nosily, working non-stop to keep the air flowing. Inside the spacious structure, neatly organized shelves of marked boxes and files reigned. There was also a row of temperature-controlled rooms, required to maintain the integrity of collected DNA and blood samples. Valued items, such as recovered weapons, large amount of cash and drugs, were stored in special locked rooms.

"In here. Move!" With Claire and Samantha's access cards, they opened the door to the nearest high-security room, having passed over a series of parked carts used for transporting heavier items. When the lights came on in the room, the pair were immediately distracted by the wads of cash and packages of white powder on the shelves. 

But robbery was not the purpose of their intrusion, so with some reluctance, the women ignored the treasure grove. Val dragged the unconscious guard deeper into the room, then produced some zip ties from the backpack to bind his wrists, elbows, knees and ankles. With lightning speed, she produced a roll of duct tape, and plastered strips of tape around his mouth and eyes. 

"Up against the wall." Cammy was not gentle with the scared clerk at all, patting her down with haste. She snapped up Claire's cell phone and stumped it to pieces under her reinforced boots. It did not escape her attention that the clothes on the succulent clerk were at least a size too small, as her sleeveless blue blouse and short black skirt clung to her curvy body - far too tightly for her own good.

"He-hey- what- oommpphhh" Cammy's hand returned to clamp down on the clerk's mouth while she gave her round boobies a good squeeze. Despite the presence of a bra, there were ample firm titties for Cammy to grab through the blouse.

"You like being a stuck-up tease, huh? Let's see what else you got..."

Ignoring the woman's muffled cries, Cammy's hand roamed down her body, groping her plump ass through the skirt. She did not have to travel down too far to feel Claire's smooth, tanned legs, since the hem of her skirt rode several inches above her knees.

"Desk job is a waste for this bitch." An equally-eager Val was on the clerk as well, crowding in to get a feel of those tempting titties. The assailants nodded at each other, and attacked at the same time. With Cammy's hand still clamped over their victim's mouth, Val took her blouse collars and yanked the shirt apart. Buttons flew as the top of Clarie's breasts and her white push-up bra came into view.

"Sweet." They nodded, licking their chops. Val took over the duty to silence the young woman, freeing her boss' hands to hike up Claire's skirt, revealing her white panties, adorned with bright red lipstick patterns underneath.

"Stay still, bitch!!" 

With an irate look, Cammy seized the waistband of Claire's panties and jerked them down her legs. She snatched the soft fabric free from her feet, contemplating briefly to pocket the cute underwear for herself, before balling them up in her hand.

While Claire was still reeling from being stripped, Val leaned closer to pinch her nose shut, and gripping her cheeks until her lips yielded to an 'O'. That was more than enough for Cammy to stuff those still-warm panties, gusset piece facing out, past her pearly-whites and into her mouth. 

"Enjoy your fuckin' panties." While Val ensured the wide-eyed clerk could not expel the gag, Cammy used duct tape to seal Claire's lips shut. The faux redhead further quieted the clerk with a series of stinging slaps to her face.

"Let's give all the horny pricks at the station something to talk about." Cammy smirked, digging out the pocket knife from the backpack. She slipped the blade under the clasp between the two bra cups, and chiseled at the stretchy material until they broke free. Claire sobbed when her titties and nipples were exposed to the cool air, but was completely powerless to stop her attackers from grabbing hungrily at them.

"Secure her." Cammy finally put an end to the groping frenzy, knowing they were on the clock. Val took the guard's handcuffs and ensured the short chain were wrapped around the steel shelf post, before pulling Clarie's arms high over her head, and finally securing her wrists with the steel manacles. The young woman tugged on the cuffs, but she was helplessly bound to the shelves - with her 34Cs hanging out in the open.

"It's a damn shame we have no time for you, Claire Brenan. You could use a real lesson or two. Maybe we'll come back..." Cammy gave the young woman a parting touch, crudely passing her fingers between her legs. As a final insult, she took the pocketknife and stabbed through the hem of the black skirt, ripping and dragging down the cloth until the ruined skirt fell at Claire's feet. 

The exposed clerk whimpered into her panties gag, her cheeks beet-red at the thought of being discovered this way. The uniformed assailants left Claire to ponder her fate in the dark, slamming the door on their way out of the secured room.

"I'll take care of the USB sticks." Cammy commanded her accomplice. "Man the front desk and let people know the Archives is closed for maintenance until nine. We'll be long gone by then."

If Agent Koch and Lieutenant Dawson were to be believed, the Cobra Crew's key objectives were stored in one of the thousands of boxes inside the three-thousand square foot warehouse. It was up to Cammy now to navigate through the rows of shelves to locate box ADL-8002.

"Got it, boss. See ya soon." The imposters bumped fists, and one went deeper into the warehouse, while the other exited, letting the heavy doors lock behind her.

***

Ryan surveyed the scene in front of him and watched proudly as his cock rose to life once again. Not a bad feat at all, he thought, considering he just finished fucking the Asian hottie not that long ago.

He stroked himself a few times, enjoying the sensations from the friction with his built-up juices. With the camcorder setup and ready for another session, he walked around the Samantha's bed and beat his meat on the face of a defenseless Annette. The captive police cadet might have reacted by crying louder, but Ryan couldn't really tell, not when Annette's mouth was packed with worn panties from both Samantha AND Melissa. 

Being the screamer she was, Ryan made sure Annette's cries were further minimized by wounding three pairs of Samantha's pantyhose tightly around her head, plus ensuring the wadded knot was present to keep the panties in her mouth.

Though he could barely hear her, Annette's flared nostrils and sharp breathes were telling. Still naked and tied spread-eagle to Samantha's bed, the young State Trooper had zero input at the way her pussy was being ravished - by her supervisor's enthusiastic tongue.

After watching all three hostages hit orgasms earlier with Melissa's sex toys plugged into their holes, Ryan was ready to move on to his next game. He first made the lesbian cop lick the used dual-head vibrator clean, then began to sell Melissa the idea of getting up close and personal with her otherwise unwilling police partner.

"I know you want her, bad. I'll make sure she sees the Desert Eagle, and you just play along." Ryan whispered fiendishly in the cop's ear. 

"Look, tits, this is gonna happen, with or without your cooperation, so you might as well enjoy it."

"And if I don't?" The Corporal gulped.

"Oh, you'll still go down on her, while I use this -" He whipped the riding crop hard on the mattress, inches from her face. "- on BOTH your pussies. That's right, tits, this drippin' pussy of yours..."

The policewoman blinked wildly at the prospect.

"Gonna play along?"

When Melissa drew a deep breath and nodded, Ryan patted her on the head. 

"Smart cookie." He took her by the chained neck collar, and marched her at gunpoint to Samantha's room. In front of the bound Lieutenant and Cadet, he slapped Melissa around, threatening to harm all three of them if the Corporal did not "tongue-fuck the Cadet chick and make her cum".

Annette was clearly horrified at the prospect, but quieted her gagged protests when she saw Melissa "reluctantly" agreeing to Ryan's demand, just as he raised the crop over her pussy.




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05



Will the State Police catch up to the Cobra Crew and their hostages? Find out in the final installment of "Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike". What did you think of the story? Let me know by leaving a comment or contacting me. 

I'm not sure when we will see the Cobra Crew in action again, but I had a blast writing this one, so keep an eye on this site. Thanks everyone!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

==============================

Special Agent Natasha Cole of the FBI came to slowly. The first thing she felt was the throbbing pain from the side of her head. Instinctively, she moved to soothe the spot, but her arm would not move.

Panic began to swell in the federal agent when she discovered none of her limbs would move. It took another moment for her fingertips to find the cold, unyielding steel bracelets snapped around her wrists. She found her arms raised and spread out from her, tethered to something unyielding over her head. Natasha tried to stand, but rope - thick rope - was holding her snugly to a metal chair. Her legs were bent backwards with her ankles bound to the rear legs of the chair, and her spirited swaying on the chair got her nowhere. 

Cobwebs clearing, Natasha opened her eyes - only to find she was still in complete darkness. Some kind of black hood was strewn over her head. She tried to shake it off, but to no avail. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled - her tongue confirmed the piquant-tasting cloth packed in her mouth, and her lips were sealed together with tape.

Natasha felt cool air over her chest, especially the tops of her bosom not covered by her bra. Her blouse was open - yes, torn during the fight with the leader of the Cobra Crew. The FBI agent moaned as she searched the fragments of her memory - boarding the flight out of D.C., meeting up with her State Police escort, rushing into the Archives. But she had overpowered the criminal, so why-

The brunette snapped her head towards the sound of a bolt lock turning and a metal door creaking open. Judging by their unhurried footsteps, those entering the room were not her rescuers.

She held her breath as someone reached under the hood - and a pair of feminine hands brushed softly at her face. A surprised and angry Natasha shook her head wildly, which only seemed to amuse her captor. 

"You took a nice long nap there, Agent Cole." The voice belonged to the leader of the Cobra Crew, which confirmed Natasha's worst fears.

She was a captive of the very gang she was tasked to bring to justice.

"Lift her."

A pulley turned somewhere in the room, and the restraints on her wrists began to raise. Some of the rope around her were loosened, and the FBI agent gasped as she was pulled to her feet. She waited for the moment when her ankles were released from the chair, and lashed out hard with her foot - but her leg remained stationary, clasped by a pair of iron fists. 

"Don't bother." The deep guff voice told her. Natasha knew it was the notorious "Romeo" - the muscle of the crew. He easily rendered her legs completely immobile while softer hands - no doubt belonging to "Vixen" - worked to fit some type of metal restraint on her ankles. The FBI agent protested behind her gag in vain, when he ran his hand up her legs in order to spread them apart. 

More chains clicked into place, and when the brute finally released his grip, Natasha found the cuffs on her ankles were fastened to the ground. She could barely move an inch in any direction. Meanwhile, her arms were hoisted even higher, leaving her standing helplessly, straining to stay on the ball of her feet.

"Much better." Cobra commented, the sound of her heels tapping all around the bound FBI agent. Unceremoniously, the hood was yanked from her head. Natasha blinked furiously, eager but equally dreading to regain her sight.

The federal agent found herself to be the center of attention in an otherwise empty, windowless, concrete room. Natasha deduced she was in an industrial storage room, likely below-ground. The only means of escape appeared to be through the vault-like metal door with a tiny window. If not for several construction-use spotlights shining on her, this would be a very cold and dark place.

She was, in effect, imprisoned in a dungeon cell.

The captive agent was surrounded by the Cobra Crew, each canvassing her in their own evil way. Each was beaming with victory, but the Bower knife on the leader's belt and a shiny .357 Magnum revolver in the young woman's hand served notice that they had not let their guard down.

Natasha realized her costly mistake at failing to recognize 'Vixen' posing as the officer at the Archives desk. By now, the ladies had dropped their disguises, leaving them in their natural form - and beauty. Maybe it was the casual sundress that clung tightly to Vixen's body, or the simple black tank-top that accented Cobra's buxom, but Natasha could not deny the two dangerous women were - enchanting? - In their way.

She turned to size up the brawny 'Romeo' and was immediately caught up in sight of the rippling muscles on his forearm. The simple grey t-shirt he had on seemed to stretch in all the right places. Then there was the unmistakable bulge in his gym shorts. Catching her gaze, Romeo winked at her and licked his chops. 

Disgusted, Natasha turned away, only to discover a fifth person in the room.

At the feet of 'Romeo' was a beautiful but disheveled medium blonde, who was kneeling with her hands bound behind her. She was wearing a nothing but a black lacy teddy that cleaved to all the attractive curves of her body, its "neckline" plunging straight down to her navel. The tops of her heaving breasts were glistening with her own drool, with trails running down her chin, a direct result of the black rubber ball held behind her teeth.

Strangely, there was a shiny police badge hanging around her neck, the chain sitting over the nylon collar and leash placed on her neck. On closer inspection, the FBI agent realized it was an authentic badge of the State Police. Even before meeting the frightened woman's gorgeous blue eyes, Natasha realized her fellow captive was none other than State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson.

"I believe you two have met." Cobra smiled and stepped closer, as if reading Natasha's mind. 

"But today... you're going to get to know each other REALLY well." 

The venom in her voice was a sharp contrast to her gentle brush of Natasha's walnut brown strands. A furious Natasha reacted strongly to her touch, spearing forward with her head as hard she could, but the woman easily dodged the attempt.

Almost immediately, the hulking giant was behind the bound federal agent and wrapped his lumbering forearm around Natasha's throat and neck. A mere half-minute of his controlled squeezing left her very light-headed, gasping for air. 

"Dumb, dumb bitch." After placing several sharp, stinging slaps across her face, 'Cobra' proceeded to tear the duct tape from her face, causing Natasha more agony. "Go ahead, spit it out, I want to hear you scream..."

They watched her labour to expel the soggy fabric from her mouth. Natasha immediately regretted her look of horror when she saw she had been chewing on two pairs of panties.

"Did you enjoy the taste, cunt? The blue pair, that was courtesy of your State Police escort - oh, what's her name again, Vixen?" 

"Corporal Robin Bailey." The young woman leered.

"Right. And the other pair, that was mine - actually I borrowed it from the Lieutenant here. Things got a bit messy and I had to change after you tongue-fucked me. That right, Lieutenant?"

The blonde stared around blankly, before nodding at the leader of the Cobra Crew, much to Natasha's dismay.

With a laugh, the brunette turned to the federal agent again, her fingertip marking a trail from Natasha's nose down to her lips, chin and throat. She doodled aimlessly on her chest - and poked at the tops of Natasha's mounds. The captive Brit groaned and struggled fruitlessly in her binds when 'Cobra' took her breasts and kneaded them through her bra.

"Get your bloody hands offff- uhh uhh" Natasha's fierce protest died just as quickly as it started when Romeo made his presence known again. As she gasped desperately for oxygen, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pressing his growing bulge against her jutting buttocks.

"I'm going to enjoy abusing these." 'Cobra' sang, relishing the fire in Natasha's eyes as her fingertips dug under the white bra cups. The FBI agent mewed in alarm as the brunette grabbed and squeezed her pillowy flesh, before locating and pinching her nipples - very hard. 

"The FBI lead investigator, just another victim of the Cobra Crew..."

Natasha's rage began to give way to concern at Cobra's icy taunt. Hours of vexing interviews with the Crew's victims were coming back to haunt the FBI agent: under her own harsh direction, the pair of county Sheriff's Deputies, the ATF agent, and of course - one State Police Lieutenant Dawson - were all made to recount their abasement in the hands of the trio, often in painstaking - and very humiliating - details.

Privately, the Brit was most rattled at the accounts of the officers' forced lesbianism, but she was downright infuriated that the women all more or less confessed that they climaxed under those circumstances. She bristled at their excuses and accused them of fundamentally cooperating with these criminals, while supposedly being held against their will. 

And now...

"You wouldn't dare-"

Natasha's nerve of steel began to crumble when 'Cobra' took out the hunting knife, with its sharp and rugged edges. Never breaking eye contact, the criminal brought the tip of the sharp instrument right over her cleavage.

"Time to lose these..."

The knife slashed down on Natasha's white collared blouse, making short work of the remaining buttons. The leader of the Cobra Crew ripped apart the ruined top, and nodded approvingly at the sight of her gorgeous boobs encased in a simple, lightly padded, white Wonderbra. 

There were whistles in the room when Cobra caressed the agent's taut tummy, causing her to hiss in anger again. 

"Don't you dare touch- ugfffff" Out of nowhere, 'Vixen' stepped in and mercilessly slapped the FBI agent until she saw stars. Stunned, she opened her eyes to see a silver gun barrel being wedged between her lips, and an irate young woman with her finger on the trigger.

"This FUCKING CUNT just don't get it"

Natasha froze at the sound of the gun safety being released. 'Vixen' dug hard into Natasha's hair and scalp with her other hand, forcing the frightened agent to meet her fiery eyes. 

"Yeah that's right, you dumbass FBI cunt, WE are the ones in charge here. So you're gonna suck this-" 

She thrusted the barrel of the silver Magnum revolver deeper into the brunette's mouth.

"- like a juicy COCK. Or else-" The cold young lady cocked the hammer.

The FBI agent's eyes grew like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Her eyeballs darted around, pleading for a way out, but found none.

"SUCK IT NOW, BITCH!!"

Natasha shuddered and opened her mouth. She found herself gaining more sympathy for Samantha and the others by the second. 

But who's going to have sympathy on her?

* * *

Cammy smirked as she watched their hostage swallowed hard - and with much reluctance willed her lips to envelop the lethal tool in her mouth. The brunette breathed in and made an obscene sucking noise. Her cheeks immediately turned crimson, and the FBI agent squeezed her eyes shut in shame.

"Finally! That's a start, cunt." Val chortled, her spittle landing on the face of their captive. "Open your eyes and keep sucking!! Don't fuckin' act like you hadn't gone down on a cock before, whore!"

Natasha had no opportunity to respond, as her impatient captor grabbed her head and began to guide her mouth in and out of the six-inch metal tube.

Val leaned in and stuck her tongue into her hostage's ear before whispering softly. "Yeah... suck it real good, bitch!! Let me see your tongue, or else... Yeah. Good. Think of this as fucking practice, 'cuz we gonna put that sweet mouth of yours to good use..."

The brunette whimpered in distress but kept up her awkward attempt at juicing up the hard metal with her mouth.

Everyone in the room, including Samantha, was mesmerized by the sight of the high-and-mighty federal agent being reduced to giving a blowjob - on a gun. It was another minute before Cammy stepped in again to resume exploration of Natasha's set of tits. With her hostage occupied, she was free to abuse and smack the FBI agent's breasts to her heart's content.

Cammy lowered her head to lick the Brit's tender chest, right down to the valley between her globes. She snickered when she realized Ryan's hands were lifting Natasha's breasts, as he eagerly grabbed them from behind. With a knowing nod, they both dug into the bra cups to fish out both tits into the open.

"That's some fine English titties." Ryan leaned over the bound woman's shoulders to get his first look at Natasha's 32Bs. He moved to grab them both, but Cammy already had the brunette's left breast in her mouth and was sucking on it hungrily. Ryan settled on the other titty and roughly twisted her rosy nipple with his fingertips. 

"OWWW!!" Natasha screamed when her nubs were targeted by both teeth and fingernails. 

"Sensitive nipples, cunt? Well then..." Cammy laughed with Ryan, and the two of them combined to squeeze and tug on Natasha's tits by her nipples. They repeatedly hand-slapped her breasts, relishing the way Natasha squirmed fruitlessly in her binds. 

Keeping to their tried-and-true method of pain & pleasure, Cammy returned to the glowing flesh and twirled her tongue around Natasha's exploited nubs. She continued with the slapping though, essentially evicting Ryan from his spot.

Val was observing the assault on Natasha's tits with glee and noticed her lover was expelled. So she withdrew the saliva-laden barrel from Natasha's mouth and pressed it against her forehead.

"Kiss him, cunt." She ordered, spinning the FBI agent's head around so her gapping mouth met Ryan's eager lips. "Hey, listen carefully - I will personally FUCK YOU UP if he gets anything else, other than your lips and tongue. You got that?!!"

"Mmmpphh-" The Brit moaned into Ryan's mouth, his tongue overpowering hers with ease. She was also starting to feel jolts of pleasure shooting through her body, no thanks to Cammy's manipulation of her delicate breasts. At some point, Natasha felt her skirt loosened and tugged away from her body. With a triumphant smile, Val held up the torn-up grey material for the FBI agent to see, before tossing it into the darkness of the room.

"Mmm! That shit's a'right." Ryan nodded approvingly at the federal agent's surprising choice of underwear, given the woman's modesty at covering up her sexy body. A wispy white thong was all that was separating them from full access to Natasha's most private areas.

"What's with the slutty panty, CUNT??" Val demanded, poking and prodding at Natasha's ass with her .357 Magnum. "Talk!!"

"Ughh- the- lines on my knickers were- showing." Came the quiet whisper. "It was- improper." 

The response set off a howl of laughter from all three Crew members. 

"Improper! You're funny. I'll show you improper..." Still chuckling, Cammy retrieved a pair of nipple clamps and attached them none-too-gently on Natasha's hardened nubs, then yanked on the silver chain linking the clips to see her reaction. 

"OWWWW!!"

"Hurts? Good. We've barely started..." The brunette smiled and held up Natasha's FBI badge. She carefully attached the ID card to the front clasp of Natasha's white bra.

"Oww... oh lord." The kidnapped federal agent pleaded under her breath, but could only watch powerlessly as Cammy aimed a cell phone camera at her and snapped away. 

"What do you think, Agent Cole? Who should we send these too?" Cammy held up the screen for Natasha to see. There was no mistaking the flustered federal agent, clearly identifiable by her FBI photo ID, with her blouse wide open and breasts exposed, shackled and standing spread-eagled in little more than her stringy underwear. 

"Imagine the boys' reaction at the Bureau and Scotland Yard when they open their emails to find these, huh?? Their hot-shot lead investigator, in the hands of the Cobra Crew, being VERY improper and all..."

"There'll be all sorts of naughty pics and videos by the time we're through with you, cunt." Val leered at the flummoxed brunette, caressing Natasha with her gun and watching the fight practically leaving their hostage with each passing moment. The FBI agent would learn later that there were, in fact, three video cameras in the room, all trained on her, capturing every minute of the assault from different angles.

"The FBI chick has a pretty hot ass." Ryan declared, after circling back to check out the brunette's tight and curvy rump. The ladies nodded in agreement.

"So, whatcha waitin' for?" Cammy motioned at the hulking giant and his girlfriend, who nodded eagerly and got to work, cupping Natasha's ass cheeks and spreading them apart.

"Lieutenant! We haven't forgotten you. Come here, slut." Samantha gasped when Cammy suddenly turned and tugged on the leash attached to collar around her neck. She wiggled awkwardly on her knees, until the State Police Lieutenant and her teddy-clad body came to the spread feet of her fellow captive.

Natasha was still trying to recover from the onslaught on her breasts when - WACK! - a sharp, painful blow landed squarely on her butt. Instinctively, she leapt and tried to get away, but the restraints held her in place. She desperately turned around, just to see the lustful brute with his giant palm raised in the air. 

"OW! Oh, please, don't!" She blurted out in her English accent. Her voice was high and girlish, a far cry from her usual air of confidence and authority.

"Oh YES. You've been a very, very naughty girl-" He cackled in his unsuccessful English accent, just as he scored another direct hit on her right cheek.

The FBI agent shrieked, and shrieked again when she saw Val emerged from the shadows - with a black leather riding crop in her hand.

"No!! Stay away!!"

"Shut your fucking trap!!" Val growled, pausing long enough to cram a large red ball gag into Natasha's screaming mouth and tie the straps tightly behind her head. "There! Much better" She continued to slap the defenceless agent several times, finally quieting her.

"Yeah, smack that bitch up, baby!! Spank her real good." The young woman cheered on her man, salivating at all the potential targets on Natasha's lovely body. "Time to lose this for good, cunt." Val decided, and cut away the already-ruined blouse with the Bower knife, exposing more skin for Val and her riding crop. 

"Fuck, you're got a sweet bod, cunt, I'll give you that." Val leered, feeling up Natasha's body from head to toe. "It's just perfect... for whipping!" 

SNAP! Val brought down the riding crop to Natasha's breasts, making them bounce lewdly. "Yeah! Take THAT, bitch!" Staccato notes of flesh being slapped around rang in the room as Val and Ryan traded measured blows on the FBI agent. The trio concurred that they would not mark up her beautiful body, but they were sure going to humiliate and torment her. 

Meanwhile, tired of using his palm, Ryan decided to arm himself with the S&M whip they claimed from one of their previous home invasions. Designed primarily for spicing things up in the bedroom, the black flogger was equipped with strings of leather tips, ensuring the delivery of multiple stings in one motion.

"Hhhhhggggnnnn!!" Natasha certainly felt all the stings as her tits and ass absorbed the effects of the instruments.




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05



"Hmmm, hmmmm" The FBI agent shrieked again, shaking her head wildly when Cammy took hold of her thong. With a grin, Cammy yanked the brunette's underwear up, driving the white fabric between Natasha's pussy lips. Cammy snickered as she played seesaw with Natasha's panties over her pussy, relishing the look of distress and disbelief on her captive's lovely face.

When she finally released the thong from her grip, Cammy's deft fingers slid down the front of her thong, tickling her bush and converging on her folds. The brunette gasped behind her gag when the leader of the Cobra Crew trailed her fingertip along her clit, then proceeded to pry apart her pussy lips.

"Nnnnngggg!!" Natasha screamed, growing more desperate by the minute, even as she danced involuntarily from the whipping.

"Agent Cole, let's see what you're hiding..." Cammy proclaimed in her sinister smile, tearing the thong and peeling away the little triangle piece to expose the brunette's bushy patch. 

"Very nice." Cammy was impressed with the Brit's clear and smooth bikini lines, even as she freely explored Natasha's snatch. The brunette squealed sharply when Cammy slapped her exposed pussy, adding to her torment.

"Fucking cunt...!" The leader of the Cobra Crew spat in the face of her helpless captive, before intensifying her attack on the woman's pussy. 

"Mmmphh, mmmmpphhhh-"

Ignoring her desperate pleas, Cammy gripped Natasha's sensitive flesh - and placed two finger to the entrance of her box. Her digits easily slid inside, aided by the pool of juices already present. 

"Well, WELL, someone is enjoying this." Cammy sneered, penetrating their victim with a third finger so she could further savour Natasha's shell-shocked expression and discombobulated gasps. After pumping her several times, Cammy proudly held up her slicked fingers to hoots and laughter, while Natasha exhaled noisily.

"Yep, someone is horny..." The leader of the Cobra Crew declared, smearing her slick fingers under Natasha's nose and all over her gagged lips.

"The federal agent is just another dirty WHORE who NEEDS to be punished." Those busy fingers returned to the agent's love box, and fucked away none-too-gently. Cammy was soon coupling her penetrations with open-palm slaps on Natasha's smooth inner thighs. 

"This cunt-" THWACK! "- is totally getting off-" THWACK! "-on this!" Val was still working the riding crop on the fleshiest parts of Natasha, adding to the pink glows all over the brunette's body. Careful to stay out of his girlfriend's way, Ryan took a break from his own spanking by toying with the drawstring that ran through Natasha's ass crack, drawing it tight and rocking it back and forth across her puckered hole.

"NNNaaahhhh!!" Through the various abuses her body was enduring, it was a sudden, wet, tickling sensation at her pussy that immediately seized Natasha's attention. Her eyes flew open to see the State Police Lieutenant glancing back at her - as Samantha looked up from between her stretched legs. The black ball gag Samantha wore was now dangling from her neck, liberating her mouth - for other duties.

Natasha could only watch in revulsion as the blonde leaned forward with her tongue out and made a slow pass across her pussy. The FBI agent shuddered at the wonderful sensation - and immediately scowled herself for liking it. But this was not a battle her logic would win.

"That's good, Lieutenant Slut. Go ahead, kiss that poor pussy all better now..." Cammy purred, guiding Samantha's head back and forth through the brunette's snatch. The leader of the Cobra Crew also pulled on the nipple clamps, relishing the way Natasha was writhing.

"Mmm-Mmmppphh, mmmppphhh" Natasha's sharp inhales were getting ragged. The high-pitch shriek returned when Samantha clamped her full lips on to Natasha's labia and sucked.

The experienced State Police Lieutenant knew exactly what to do with the hot, steamy pussy in front her. All those times in the interrogation room, the State Police Lieutenant would drift off and imagine how she would get back at the bitchy, arrogant FBI agent. Eating her out (against her will) wasn't exactly on her list, but now that this consequence-less opportunity presented itself, Samantha was going to do her best to humiliate the federal agent.

By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for more, Samantha thought as she drew circles over the woman's puffy labia with the tip of her tongue. 

"Oh, you got her attention now, Lieutenant. She's good, isn't she, agent?"

"Mmmpph!! Nnnn, nnnnn, nnnnn-" Between shudders and panting through gritted teeth, Natasha opened her eyes just to find Cammy in front of her again. Before she could react, Cammy gripped her hostage's face with both hands, and forced her burning lips right up against the brunette's lips.

"Nnn, mmm" Her urgent burst of squeals was for naught, as Natasha was frenched by another woman for the first time in her life. At the same time, Val slithered up against the agent's backside and found Natasha's bare tits again, kneading them roughly and pinching on those nipple clamps again.

"Yummy." Cammy cracked, licking up Natasha's saliva from her lips. Slowly, Natasha came to the realization the trio had let up on their spanking. Instead, all eyes were focused on the clear object in Cammy's hand. 

"You'll want to do a VERY good job at getting this nice and wet, Agent Cole, if you know what's good for you."

"Nna- Nnnaa- no, no, please" Out came the red ball gag, as Natasha recognized the spade-shaped glass object as none other than a butt plug. She shuddered at the notion of THAT - or anything - entering her rear...

"Shut up and suck, Agent Cole, or else..." The brunette squealed when the riding crop snapped down on her breast, tapping against her nipple. That was enough to get her to open her mouth. Soon, she was licking the cool, smooth shape and lubricating it as best she could.

The attack on the federal agent resumed on all fronts now. Having released her nipples from the clamps, the two ladies of the Cobra Crew were back toying with her tender tits - Val slapped them with the riding crop while Cammy soothed them with kisses and licking - and some biting in between. Ryan kept his attention on probing and spanking the brunette's inviting ass, wetting his thumb to get Natasha's backdoor ready for what was to come.

All the while, Samantha was lapping up her fellow captive's pussy in haste, having teased the woman's budding clit out from hiding. With her wrists still handcuffed behind her, Samantha honed in on the woman's box with her mouth and was licking away with abandon. As a result, her face was coated with Natasha's juices, but decency was far from her mind at this point...

POP! Cammy pulled the glass plug from Natasha's mouth. As the captive agent watched helplessly, the leader of the Cobra Crew strutted behind her, where Ryan quickly made way for her. As all three assailants watched intently, Natasha could feel the slick, hard tip at her rear - twirling and stretching -

"AHH!!-OOOHHhh-eeeeeeeee" The unfamiliar sensations of having her rear passage filled, coupled with Samantha's reckless assault between her legs, reduced the FBI agent to a series of raspy gasps, in between screeching cries. She could feel a massive orgasm coming on, one that she never expected nor wanted... 

THWACK!! In the end, Ryan's giant palm slammed on Natasha's ass so hard, it made her thrust forward deep into Samantha's outstretched tongue. The Lieutenant's hot, steamy lips and tongue slithered across her clit, pulverizing any defenses Natasha had left, finally igniting the most explosive climax she had ever experienced. 

"EEEEEEEEEE-AAAAaaaaaaaaa" 

Four pairs of eyes drank in the sight of the debased brunette, shuddering uncontrollably as she came, tugging hard on her restraints for support. As her first orgasm was subsiding, Cammy gripped the side of Samantha's head again, and rubbed her face over the FBI agent's still-pulsating pussy. Both women cried out for different reasons, and Natasha flooded the blonde with her juices, as Samantha tried hard to lap them up.

As a final act of humiliation, Ryan pulled up the dazed Lieutenant to her feet, and the two hostages were made to meet each other with their lips, with Samantha sloppily returning some of the cunt-juice back to its owner.

"You REALLY enjoyed that, didn't you?" Cammy whispered to the messy FBI agent moments later, after the brunette finally regained some sense of reality. Their hostage shied away, struggling to catch her breath.

"That first one was on the house." The leader of the Cobra Crew laughed - but the smile promptly vanished from her face. "But believe me, Agent Cole, YOU will be the one dishing out pleasure from now on."

"If you ever want to make it out of here in one piece, Agent Cole-" Cammy had Natasha's left nipple in her fingers, and she didn't hesitate to twist hard. 

"You better be a quick learner."

***

Every time Field Commander Thomas Everette closed his eyes, all he could see were images of Samantha, in her goddamn sexy lingerie, pleading with her gorgeous sapphire blue eyes. But at the moment, there was nothing he could do.

Hours have passed since the unbelievable chaos at State Police Headquarters. As the sun disappeared behind the mountains behind West Port City, Everette had to concede their cordon was a failure, and their prime suspect was successful in his escape - with Samantha in tow.

The painful reality came in the form of the discovery of the abandoned Mercedes in the carpark, and even that turned into another blunder for the good guys. Two cocky West Port City officers had to be hospitalized with slight burns, after opening the car doors and triggering an explosion. Everette was infuriated because the first responders were explicitly ordered not to touch anything. The vehicle was incinerated in the intense fire that followed, and any potential leads went up in flames.

As feared, the Archives room was a disaster, although damages were relatively localized to the placement of the IEDs. However, the USB sticks from the Escobar case were burnt up and melted away, along with scores of evidence from at least a hundred other cases. The Cobra Crew have dealt a devastating blow to the Attorney's Office and the State Police.

There were some much-needed good news when members of their own staff were found safe, rescued from the Archives room and Samantha's house. Everette was on hand when the SWAT team entered Samantha's bedroom, and witnessed the wild scene of the two naked State Troopers bound and on lewd display, with cucumbers(!), among other items, stuffed in their holes. 

It was hours before the two policewomen were finally liberated from their bonds - and the buzzing vibrators tied to their pussy. Exhausted, it was evident to all that both Corporal Melissa Holms and Cadet Annette Lin had cummed multiple times by then.

THAT was another image Everette and the SWAT team would not forget anytime soon.

Everette also heard that the young, sexy intern working in Archives, along with Corporal Robin Bailey, whom he had his eyes on for a while now, were discovered in "a state of undress". No one was terribly surprised, given the M.O. of the Cobra Crew, but the Field Commander made a mental note to get his hands on the surveillance videos...

After it became clear that the Cobra Crew took both Samantha and the FBI agent with them, with no immediate leads for the investigators to follow on, Everette was driven home and ordered to rest up. Having brushed off the well-meaning queries from his concerned wife, the Field Commander took a quick shower and fell on his bed.

Before his heavy eyelids fell shut, Everette mindlessly scrolled through the text messages on his phone, longing for a response from Samantha...

Where the hell are you, Samantha? 

That was the Field Commander's last thought before succumbing to the dark abyss of restless sleep.

***

"Oh, fuck yes! Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK! FUCK YES! Oh, fuck me Master Romeo, fill me, ooooh SHIT, YES, FUCK ME!!"

The Lieutenant's panting screeches were amusing at first, but Ryan decided the hot blonde was enjoying this way too much. He did decide 'Master Romeo' had a nice ring to it, though. Ryan growled and slammed harder into Samantha, pushing in as far as he could go, but her dripping wet cunt was swallowing his cock with ease. 

After their little initiation of Agent Cole, Cammy knew they all had to get some much-needed rest. For Val and Ryan, their "side mission" of home invasion plus shortened-playtime with Mrs. Sullivan and her housekeeper seemed like a distant memory, though it was no more than twenty-four hours ago.

For Cammy, her secret rendezvous with their mole, ATF Agent Jessica Koch, inside the nightclub bathroom also felt like ages ago. But even the leader of the Cobra Crew couldn't have predicted that at the end of a crazy day, they would be left holding State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson AND Special Agent Natasha Cole as their prisoners.

"We need to slow things down, lay low for a while. We will be safe here for a few days. We'll fuck their brains out, release them and move on." Cammy informed her accomplices of the agenda for their hostages. "Right now, everyone need some rest. You two hit the sacks first, I'll keep an eye on our guests and the police scanners."

Ryan and Val were happy to oblige, sweet rest coming to them as soon as they hit the pillows. Hours later, it was Cammy's turn to catch some shut-eye - and the perfect opportunity for Ryan to make good his promise to one State Police Lieutenant.

"Wakey wakey, Lieutenant. Didn't I promise you we'd have some fun together?" He said, running his hands over Samantha's beautiful rump as she woke from her slumber. The groggy blonde turned and saw the couple studying her. 

"Ready or not..."

Ryan and Val jumped on the mattress to join the State Police Lieutenant, removing some of her bonds to leave her smooth legs unsecured, only keeping the handcuffs that held her wrists in front. Knowing full well what was to come, the blonde was not surprised at all when Ryan dropped his boxers, and his meat hardened to attention right in front of her eyes. 

Time to finish some unfinished business, Samantha thought.

Without being prompted, Samantha immediately took his cock with both hands, fondling him up and down, and seductively stretched out her tongue as far as it would go - before topping it off with a slow, erotic lick. She teased him like that for a bit, before finally parting her lips wide to swallow his rock-hard erection. Ryan had to stifle his smile since he could feel Val's jealousy rising, as she watched the blonde cop tongue-bathe his head and suck him with full exuberance.

"You fucking WHORE!" Val screamed all sorts of degrading obscenities at her, which only seemed to spur her on. Samantha also didn't seem to mind having her skimpy lingerie pulled down until it sat uselessly around her waist. Nor did she object to having her pussy assailed by Val, who spat into her spread vulva to further lube up her passage.

"I said your pussy was mine the first time we met, remember?" Ryan reminded their captive. "Well, it's fucking time...yeahhhh..." 

With his rigid cock glistening with her saliva, Ryan easily mounted their all-too-willing hostage, after shoving her down on the mattress. On penetration, both of them cried out in delight, with Samantha lifting and spreading both her legs so she could have more of him. 

"Fuck you, you stupid cunt!!" Val fumed, plenty ticked off as she watched her man pound the Lieutenant, and the woman responding in glee. "Shit! Time to put that fucking trap hole of yours to good use." Val told Samantha, as she toyed with the cop's pillowy tits. 

"I... ooh, UHHH! I want... uh, oh! I want your pussy too, Mistress Vixen..."

"Oh, you're getting it, cunt!" Val climbed on to the mattress, dropping to her knees until her thighs were on either side of the Lieutenant's face.

Val actually heard the blonde's excited squeal when the young woman lowered herself, until she could feel Samantha's heated breathes over her crotch. Having already stripped down to her underwear much earlier, Val sighed in contentment as she tucked at the pink lacy waistband of her cheek-hugging panties.

Ryan was bug-eyed as he watched his badass girl slither sexily out of her panties, then shoving the moist fabric in Samantha's face. She ordered her to lick her panties, to which the Lieutenant performed without hesitation. 

"There's no stopping you, is there, you fucking 'ho?? Well, eat this..."

Ryan's cock twitched sharply when Val grabbed the policewoman's head and pulled her deep between her legs.

"OK. NOW fuck her good." Val smiled dreamily to her man, as she spun around so they could share a long, wet kiss. Ryan happily did as he was told, resuming his strokes with vigor, knowing Val and her soppy twat would feel HIS every thrust into Samantha.

The criminal couple were soon expressing their euphoria with abandon, as they received ample pleasure from the experienced and willing blonde. Freed from any time constraints, Ryan slowed his pace, taking his cock and sliding it over the policewoman's clit, much to her delight.

"Mmmm, aaaahh, Mistr- Mmmpphhh" 

"Shut up and eat me, you dirty slut!!"

Samantha was so busy jamming her tongue deeper into the delicious pussy in front of her, she completely missed the wordless signals being exchanged by the couple.

"Mmm... ye- whh, wait, Wait! ahhHHHH!! Noo, MMMooo...!!"

By the time Samantha felt the engorged head at the entrance of her puckered hole, it was too late. Ryan had little trouble muscling his way into her rear passage, assisted greatly by the blonde's own slimy juices. Val giggled and yelled in bliss as she held the surprised cop in place and kept her focus at the task at hand.

"Shut it, cunt, I know you love gettin' FUCKED in the ass... yeah that's right, cunt, mmm, keep sucking there... yeah, you dirty whore cop, you loooove getting a REAL cock up that tight ass hole of yours, don't yaa..."

As Val egged on the gasping policewoman, Ryan was slowly stretching her out to the point where he could comfortably push in and out of her. And so he continued his assault, alternating between Samantha's two glorious openings as he pleased.

"Ohhh Mis- ummmmphh umm- puh-lease mmmm pfffff- lemmmmmeee cummmmm!! Aaaghh!! Fuuuucccckkkkkk!!"

With Ryan's cock buried in her asshole and his fingers massaging her clit, Samantha shook hard when ecstasy overtook her. She cried into Val's dripping pussy and lapped furiously as she buckled wildly.

"Oooohh, you dirty, fuckin' cunnnt!! AHHHhhhh-" Samantha's uncontrolled hammering of Val's pussy pushed her over the edge too as the young woman came quick and hard into the Lieutenant's mouth. Val was still gasping when she felt Ryan's hands wrapped around her tits. She turned and was captured by the sight of the angry veins on his twitching cock. 

She knew what he wanted to do, so she scooted off of Samantha's face and gently stroked his member, all coated with sticky juices. Then, she guided his thick cock and placed it between the blonde's gorgeous breasts, so he could tit-fuck the State Police Lieutenant. Val was more than happy to join in and squeeze the bitch's melons as her man rubbed his head back and forth.

"Oh, fuck..."

Val knew it was time. With one hand, she caressed Ryan's steel-hard abs and kept going down until her fingers were wrapped around his erection again. With the other hand, she slapped their blonde hostage and squeezed her chin hard until her mouth opened.

"Oh, SHIT!! Shhhiittt-"

His first stream exploded from his cock, missing Samantha's mouth completely and narrowly missing her eyes. Instead, the hot gob landed on her right cheek and bounced into her hair. The rest of his shots proceeded to coat the policewoman's lips, tongue and mouth with sticky sperm. As a final act of humiliation, Ryan took his throbbing pistol and shoved it into Samantha's mouth, keeping it there until she had sucked him dry.




Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05



"Oh fuck! That was awesome, babe." Ryan would declare later, with his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders. The couple were admiring the sight of hot cum dripping down the beautiful face of the State Police Lieutenant.

"The fucking whore is a first-class pussy-eater too. Good choice grabbing her, honey."

"Thanks, babe. So, what should we do about this mess on her face?"

Ryan and Val grinned at each other, and both turned toward the FBI agent in the room, who was bound tightly to a chair, a large black ball gag jammed into her mouth. Her clothing was all but gone, as she sat only in her torn white bra and panties. But the underwear were not there for Agent Cole's modesty, since the bra cups were tugged under her milky breasts, and her thong was ripped up, lewdly exposing her private parts.

Then there was the purple vibrator. Val took her time setting up the pocket-sized sex toy on the federal agent, carefully positioning it between her spread legs, before tying the object in place to her left thigh. The curved tip of the vibrator was pressed against Natasha's labia, and its varied buzzing motions meant the brunette's clitoris was getting more attention than Natasha can handle.

The unwanted workout was producing a sheen of perspiration over her body. An embarrassed and outraged Natasha had turned away from the threesome act, but she had nowhere to go when the couple got up and strolled toward her.

"Did you enjoy the show, cunt?!" Val leered at the brunette. Natasha's sharp squeals were muffled as Ryan and Val easily lifted her and the chair, taking care not to disturb the hard-working vibrator, until the bound agent came next to the mattress where Samantha laid.

"Up you go, Lieutenant," Ryan said, lifting Samantha to her knees, placing her handcuffed hands on Natasha's seat. The two hostages came eye-to-eye, and the sight of thick gobs on Samantha's face was enough for the Brit to look away in disgust - until Val's unrelenting hands forcefully re-focused her attention again.

"It's your lucky day, cunt, 'cuz you get to clean up that delicious cum all by yourself." Val sang sweetly, while Ryan unbuckled the ball gag straps. Natasha swallowed hard when the hard rubber ball was dislodged from her mouth.

"And let's start with this gorgeous, dripping cock right here."

Val took Ryan's semi-rigid tool and slapped the FBI agent's cheeks with it. With both assailants' hands clamped on to her silky hair and scalp, there was simply nowhere for Natasha to go. It didn't take long for Ryan to wipe his wet cock all over the beautiful Brit's face - and sealed lips.

"Aw, don't worry, babe, really soon, you'll be givin' this-" More grinding of her lips with his dick. "- some love. But now, I think it's time you do a good clean-up job on our messy Lieutenant Slut here-"

"Noo- UGHHHHHH!! NNNnnnngggg" 

Anticipating her resistance, Ryan simply took the two ladies' heads and mashed them together, smearing his cum all over Natasha's face.

"Kiss- LICK. HER. FACE. CLEAN, you stupid piece of SHIT!!" Val grabbed the riding crop and targeted the brunette's sensitive nipples. Natasha did what was expected when she yelped out in pain, allowing Ryan to direct Samantha's cheeks up and down, ensuring Natasha's oral cavity was absorbing the sticky fluid.

"Ughhhh, OWWW- MMmmphhhh"

"Hey, let me see your TONGUE - NOW!!" Val's continuous attacks on Natasha's tits made the whimpering woman do as she was told. The couple hooted in laughter as they guided the brunette's reluctant tongue over every inch of Samantha's beautiful face. The State Police Lieutenant, having long tossed caution to the wind, took the golden opportunity to wrap her mouth around Natasha's outstretched tongue for a forbidden, passionate rendezvous.

"That's it, cunt, wipe her clean. Now suck those nipples!" With a fistful of the brunette's hair, Val forced a flabbergasted Natasha down to Samantha's luscious swells, and watched the woman awkwardly suckled on the pointy nubs.

"Oooh yessss, ohhhh-" The horny blonde cried out in delight, thrusting out her bosom at her fellow captive. Her handcuffed hands dropped to her wet and steamy pussy immediately, and she was fingering herself in no time.

Val and Ryan snickered as one policewoman took full advantage of the other. They waited patiently while the sexual tension grew within Samantha, and when her panting reached a fever pitch, they stepped in together. Ryan fondled her sweet knockers, lifting them to Natasha's involuntary lips, while Val squeezed and smacked the Lieutenant's inviting bottom.

"You horny little slut! Are you close, cunt?? Come here, let me taste your dirty fingers - mmmm" Val made a big show of licking Samantha's juicy fingers, to the cop's glee. 

"UH, Uh, uhhh, OH, ooohh, AHHHHHHH-" All the extra attention to her tender parts pushed Samantha to another orgasm, shuddering and dripping juices on to the laps of the appalled FBI agent. The deeply sated State Police Lieutenant would moan intensely for another minute before quieting down.

"Sounds like one hell of a party here. Mind if I join?" 

Both captors and hostages turned to the voice at the doorway - and mouths went agape at what they saw. There was the leader of the Cobra Crew, dressed in a stunning, skin-tight, black spandex catsuit. Her already-impressive physique was accented by the elastic material, making her gorgeous curves even more irresistible. The long front zipper was pulled up just above Cammy's navel, perfect for showcasing her enchanting and jutting breasts.

"I am going to spice things up a bit here, especially for you, Agent Cole."

Cammy's tall heels clicked ominously as she took steps into the room. It was the FBI agent who gasped out loud when she saw what was in Cammy's hand.

"Oh no... you can't" The Brit beauty whispered faintly.

"Oh, but I can." Cammy laughed heartily. "And I will."

"Romeo, take Agent Cole to our room. Vixen, you have the Lieutenant." 

Soon, Natasha was slung over Ryan's massive shoulders, his palm patting her smooth rump. The walk to the other room was short, but it was long enough for the federal agent to focus on the distinctive object being cradled by her beautiful and dangerous captor.

The shiny, black, strap-on dildo was easily the thickest, longest... cock Natasha had ever seen.

And Natasha knew exactly where it was going.

***

Field Commander Thomas Everette screamed when masked members of the Cobra Crew finally chased him down, and opened fire on him. 

At least he thought he screamed. 

It took Everette almost a minute to realize he was seated straight up in his bed, his lovely wife sleeping soundly beside him.

It was two in the morning. And there was no Cobra Crew.

He cursed silently to himself, shortly before the pounding headache really woke him up. Groaning, he slipped off the bed, intending to find the Advil bottle in their bathroom. 

Instead, Everette was lured away by the blinking lights from his phone. The screen lit up far too bright for his throbbing head in the dark bedroom, so it took a while for the Commander to digest through dozens of text messages and emails.

"Zero fucking leads." He thought, tossing aside the device onto his bed. He shook his head in resignation as he stumbled toward the bathroom.

Suddenly, something crept into his mind. He turned and stared at his phone. 

Where's Samantha's phone? No one reported recovering her phone from the various crime scenes.

Seconds later, he was seated in front of his computer screen. "Let's go, let's go!!" He muttered, pounding his fist on the desk as the browser was loading. 

One of his Lieutenants had shown him this trick months ago - setting up a smartphone so it would secretly share its location.

"I even got this app that'll alert me if my, uh, lady friend came within 2 miles of me... or my wife. Ain't technology grand?" Everette remembered that conversation quite well, and proceeded to enable the location sharing on Samantha's phone at the first available opportunity.

The browser finally finished loading, and Everette's eyes widened at the results. 

For the first time since leaving Samantha's house yesterday morning, Field Commander Thomas Everette had a smile on his face.

***

Half an hour ago, Cammy had taken the two duffel bags into her room, intending to go through their content. The bags, containing the loot from the Sullivan home invasion, were lined up against the wall in a space similar to an open dormitory room. 

The room was designed for weary factory workers to rest up, and the dozen single beds with simple, hospital-grade metal bedframes were left behind when the building was shuttered. 

The setup was more than adequate for the Cobra Crew.

As she started to count the wads of hundred-dollar bills, Samantha's continued ravishing screams down the hall was making it very difficult for Cammy to concentrate. It didn't take long for Cammy's thoughts to stray toward the fetching - and completely defenseless - brunette FBI agent.

The loot counting was going to have to wait.

Now, the sleek, sexy brunette strolled casually around one of the beds, which was pulled into the center of the room by Ryan. Cammy was already wearing the big, bad strap-on, but decided to "warm things up" with the multi-lash whip.

On the mattress laid Special Agent Natasha Cole, her arms and legs forcibly stretched away from her, and tied harshly to the metal bedframe. Like earlier, she was just about naked - save for her bra, with the cups tucked under her heaving breasts, and the thong that sat loosely around her waist. 

The federal agent was screaming into her ball gag, her only practical reaction to the lashes licking against her bare skin.

Several feet away, Ryan and Val sat on a sofa, with Samantha snuggled between them. Secured by a collar around her neck and its leash tethered to an anchor in the wall, Samantha was freed from the handcuffs. However, both her hands were equally occupied, as the foxy blonde was stroking Ryan's cock and nuzzling Val's bare pussy simultaneously.

The slow-paced stimulation from Samantha was no more than a sideshow - because all three were watching the action between Cammy and Natasha intently, salivating in anticipation.

They were not disappointed.

***

"I know where they are." Field Commander Everette exhaled into his phone.

"Is that you, Everette? For god's sakes, it's- two-thirty-"

"Director, please listen to me! I know where Lieutenant Dawson is."

"You what?"

"Yes, I know where they are. I'm on my way to HQ. I need manpower, sir. We need to mobilize the SWAT teams..."

"We- no, stop. The Feds are calling the shots now. You are SURE about this, Everette?"

"Yes, Director. I have a complete trail from the Lieutenant's phone since she was abducted from her home, it made a stop at the parking garage, and now it's been sitting in the same place - some abandoned factory north of Port City - for hours now. But we won't know for sure until we get there."

The brief silence on the other end of the phone seemed like forever to the Field Commander. The Director of the State Police finally breathed out a long sigh.

"Shit, Everette. Finally a solid lead. Okay... look, I'll call the FBI Regional Director, get him on board. Then we'll get the Task Force together, you run the briefing. You call up Commander Hall and have him setup a parameter and close up the area. I'll activate our ERT teams, and advice the FBI SWAT teams to do the same."

"Yes, yes, that's great, Director. Thank you, sir."

"And Everette?"

"Yes, sir?"

"For the love of god, please don't fuck this up anymore. You were AWOL this morning when the whole shit went down. That does NOT look good on you or the force. The FBI Regional Director wanted your head on a platter when he heard Agent Cole was abducted." 

"I -"

"Save it, Everette. Just get this right, or you're done for. I can't - won't - save your ass if the FBI decides to come after you. Understood?"

"Yes- sir." And the Director of the State Police hung up on him.

It was all Everette could do to stop himself from throwing his phone at his windshield. 

***

Natasha Cole's screams were sharp and ear-piercing, but that did nothing to deter her rapist.

"Lessee... how... DEEEEEP... we can... GO..."

The desperate FBI agent lifted her head to see the leader of the Cobra Crew inching closer and closer, virtually hugging her raised thighs as Natasha felt the mammoth intruder completely fill her love passage. The panting brunette never thought she would even entertain such a debased concept, but Natasha was actually relieved at how "well" she had lubed up the imposing cock.

"Suck it REAL good, Agent Cole. Nice and wet. Remember, cunt, it's for your own good." The leader of the Cobra Crew had hissed at her earlier as she roughly jerked and bobbed Natasha's head, forcing her to go down on the plastic strap-on. Having resigned to the inevitable, Natasha laboured to slobber as much saliva on the disgusting object as she could.

The already-degrading task was made extra challenging for Natasha, what with a thick, juicy tongue lapping hungrily at her exposed pussy. She watched with repugnance when 'Romeo' and 'Vixen' played rock, paper, scissors to "see who gets to eat out the FBI agent". It was a lose-lose proposition, and Natasha was sickened at the muscle-bound brute coming at her, wearing nothing but a wide grin on his face. 

His grin actually widened when he torn off her thong, held it up to his nose and took a long sniff.

"My first FBI trophy. And just so there's no confusion..." In front of a bewildered Natasha, 'Romeo' took her FBI ID card and clipped it on to her panties. "I could totally get addicted to these..." He smiled, before tossing the panties and badge to his girlfriend, who rolled her eyes but carefully put away the stringy underwear for him. 

"Here we go... FBI pussy time!"

Under the watchful eyes of her captors and fellow hostage, it didn't take long for 'Romeo' to tongue her sensitive vulva with abandon, and Natasha was mortified to find her body slowly responding positively to his skilled and unhurried probes. The brunette tried to keep her moans discreet, but there was no hiding of her womanly juices from 'Romeo'.

"Taste yourself, cunt." He laughed, having jammed two fingers into her slick passage, and was forcing those same digits deep into her mouth.

When she was deemed "ready" by the leader of the Cobra Crew - before she had a chance to cum - Natasha was shoved back on to the mattress. 

"Now lick my heels, Agent." Natasha shivered at the icy command from the woman. She had little choice, of course, not with his firm hands shoving her head down at the feet of 'Cobra'. Blinking away tears, the FBI agent was forced to give the pair of black heels a thorough tongue-bath.

"Not bad. Now secure her."

Far too exhausted to resist, the brunette watched helplessly as 'Romeo' grabbed her wrists and bound them tightly to her ankles, resulting in a lewd display of her private parts. To ensure the federal agent stayed in place, the Cobra Crew tied ropes around her waist and torso to the bedframe, and by affixing the collar around her neck to the metal frame.

"How does that feel, Agent Cole?" Her female rapist smiled at a shaky Natasha, having buried the entire length of the strap-on into her. The leader of the Cobra Crew, with her skin-tight catsuit unzipped down to her crotch, simply tugged the halves apart and ran her hands suggestively over her bare breasts. With a wicked smile on her face, she leaned closer until she could lick at the beads of sweat forming on Natasha's forehead. 

"Mmm. After this, even our very own Romeo will feel small in comparison."

Natasha gasped aloud as her evil captor began to rock her - hard. The sensations of the full-sized dildo sliding in and out of her passage were repulsive - and unbelievably intense.

"Oh yes, Agent Cole- I know- you're loving- this-"

Natasha was completely overmatched and overwhelmed, and she knew it. Moment by moment, she was overcome by the way the woman's soft, smooth skin was rubbing against hers; seduced by the sensation of those perfect tits - with their rock-hard nipples - sliding and reverberating against hers; surrendered fully to the criminal's full lips and sizzling tongue smothering hers - and of course, relishing in taking on the biggest cock she had ever taken in her life, thrusting and hammering in-and-out of her...

"Ahh, ahhhh, AHHHH-" The breathless federal agent heard an euphoric, desperate plea she did not recognize. Natasha tensed up, gripping her feet hard - the only thing her bound hands could reach - hanging on, anticipating - for that nasty, despicable thing to penetrate her, to brush against her clit... just one more...

And then the monster dildo exited her passage. 

For good.

"Uhhh-??" Confused, Natasha opened her eyes, to find the shiny, wet thing hovering over her mouth. The leader of the Cobra Crew looked down at her, from between her tantalizing breasts.

"Getting close, are we?"

The federal agent's vexed and broken breathes replied succinctly for Natasha. "Don't worry, you'll get another chance." With a laugh, the dripping dildo was thrust into her mouth.

"This time, Agent Cole, you REALLY want to make sure this baby's nice n' wet."

"Where do you think Mr. Strap-On is going next?"

Amidst the hoots and laughter in the room, Natasha could only whimper faintly as the black dildo pumped in and out of her mouth.

***

State Police Field Commander Thomas Everette knew he was pacing and others were staring at him, but he didn't give a shit. The operation was set in motion now, so there was little else he could do but wait for the outcome in the command mobile vehicle.

About a hundred feet away, a small army of SWAT officers were shifting about in darkness.

In just over an hour, they succeeded in assembling various SWAT teams for the rescue operation. They had the elite FBI Rescue & Response Teams, their own State Police Emergency Response Teams, and even the local Lake Marion County SWAT team present, even if they were unlikely to see any action.

The sheer size of the abandoned factory was a headache for the Task Force, with its multiple levels and exits. After a brief debate, it was decided that five four-person SWAT teams would breach the structure discreetly, while three sniper teams kept watch from elevated positions. Air units would be ordered in once the teams have established control over the target building.

The command mobile unit was parked behind a neighboring warehouse just west of their target. Aside from Everette's nervous pacing, there was actually a confident buzz among the various law enforcement agents in the lengthy trailer. With a phalanx of State Troopers manning road closure points in a one-mile radius, the Cobra Crew would have to get past a LOT of cops in order to escape justice.

Everette was pleased with the way SWAT commanders were deciphering the situation and actively collaborating, judging by the constant radio chatter. The primary teams and mobile command were all using military-grade encrypted radios, and the supporting State Troopers were ordered to maintain radio silence, apart for direct engagement with the Cobra Crew.

"This is Sierra One, we are in position, over."

"Sierra Two here, in position, over."

"Sierra Three, our ETA is ninety seconds, over."

The two-person sniper teams were covering the target from rooftops and rooms in the adjacent buildings, as decided by the tactical commanders.

"Alpha Team, what's your status? Over." FBI Supervisory Special Agent Nelson Quinn, standing next to Everette, was in charge of tonight's operation. Everette was happy to give way to the stoic, no-nonsense, fifteen-year-veteran, who had never led an operation in which the bad guys got away - dead or alive.