Back to work

Jill’s dreams were a fractured reel of memories flashes of her abduction, the suffocating press of a chloroform soaked rag, the world tilting into darkness. But beneath the terror, something else lingered. A smell sour, unwashed, unmistakable and a voice, familiar yet just out of reach, murmuring as consciousness slipped away.

Then the dream twisted.

She was back at the precinct, naked. Exposed. Colleagues glanced at her, some indifferent, others lingering on the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. The humiliation should have burned, but instead, heat coiled low in her belly. Her skin prickled under their gazes, her nipples tight, her thighs slick with arousal. She moved through the station, every step a delicious torment

The blare of her alarm shattered the fantasy.

Jill gasped awake, her body drenched in sweat, her heart hammering. Midday light slashed through the blinds. She’d slept for over twelve hours. And as she shifted, she realized two fingers were buried inside her, her pussy clenching around them.

Fuck. That’s new.

She yanked her hand free, staring at her glistening fingers. A shaky breath escaped her. Since when did she wake up fucking herself?

Jill got up and went to get ready for work, she stepped into the shower and kept the temperature low the, water did little to cool the fever under her skin. Her hands moved of their own accord soap sliding over her breasts, fingers tracing the sensitive folds between her thighs. She bit her lip, stifling a moan. This wasn’t her. She didn’t ache like this, didn’t crave like this.

Dressed in her standard issue police uniform black T-shirt clinging to damp skin, combat trousers snug around her hips she hesitated. Then she opened the kitchen cabinet.

The sample cup from the nurse sat there, innocuous.

Her pulse spiked as she unscrewed the lid. The scent hit her first musky, thick, male. A stranger’s cum.

A day ago, the thought would’ve revolted her. Now, her mouth watered.

She tipped the cup back, swallowing in one long, **** gulp. The taste flooded her senses salt, bitterness, something primal. Her tongue swiped the inside of the cup, chasing every drop.

Then clarity.

What the fuck am I doing?

A shudder ran through her. Was this her now? Some **** slut who drank strangers’ cum and fingered herself in her sleep?

She slammed the cup down, breathing hard.

Jill went to her car and started the engine, it took her a second to realise but when she saw Her nipples peaked against the thin fabric of her t-shirt, her pussy bare the rough trousers she realised that she was not wearing underwear. She exhaled, slow.

Might as well. I’d just soak through my knickers anyway.

The precinct loomed ahead. She parked, eyeing the spot where she’d been grabbed the shadowed corner of the lot, the faint scent of oil and sweat still clinging to the air. That smell again. And the voice

No. Focus.

Inspector Hale’s door was open.

“Jill.” His voice, gravelly with age, stopped her. “Didn’t expect you today.”

She stepped inside, standing at attention. His gaze flicked over her—lingering a beat too long on her chest, her hardened nipples visible through the fabric. A flush crept up her neck.

Hale cleared his throat, looking away. “After yesterday, I assumed you’d take time.”

“Permission to speak, sir.” At his nod, she continued, “I need to work. Need to find who did this.”

A grunt. “Hospital cleared you?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” The lie came easy.

“Light duties, then. Dismissed.”

She turned, hyperaware of his eyes on her ass as she left.

Jill gave her statement to CID Detectives and was allowed to leave early, she walked back to her car when a hand touched her she turned with her fist raised and saw her friend Meg.

“Jesus, Jill!” Her friend recoiled as Jill nearly punched her. “Shit, I’m sorry I heard what happened and ”

Jill’s pulse roared. Meg’s hand on her shoulder burned. The scent of her perfume vanilla and something warmer made Jill’s mouth go dry.

“I’m here if you need anything,” Meg said softly.

The words tumbled out before Jill could stop them. “You and your boyfriend still open?”

Meg blinked. “Yeah… why?”

“Can I fuck him?”

A beat of silence. Then Meg’s lips curled. “One condition.” She leaned in, breath hot against Jill’s ear. “I watch.”

Jill didn’t go home, she needed someone now and there was only one place that she could think of that she could get someone no questions asked.

She parked near the red light district, shucking her boots and combat trousers. The fabric was soaked her arousal undeniable.

What am I doing?

But the hunger drowned the thought, she walked to a street corner wearing only her black t-shirt, she raised the front so that her bald pussy was on full display to the cars passing, eventually a car slowed. The driver balding, thick fingered leered. “How much?”

Jill lifted her shirt, baring herself saying "let me suck your cock and we will work it out"

“That’s not how this works,” he protested as she slid in, already undoing his belt.

His cock filled her mouth, her tongue working in practiced strokes. He groaned, hips jerking. “Fuck, you’re good”

The burst of cum was sudden, bitter. She swallowed greedily.

Back on the street, the man sped off, stunned. Jill wiped her mouth, making sure she had not missed any of the goo.

With her senses back she realised that the smell she had been trying to remember was body odour. Rancid, unmistakable.

Only one man she knew reeked like that.

And she was going to find him.