Fast Forward 2 weeks

Nancy was at her desk, writing up some paperwork on her and Syd's latest bust. Catching Wesson had been a major coup for the girls, but Nancy had to do some serious mental gymnastics to create a story as to why Beretta escaped.

As Nancy told it, Vincent had given her the airfield location and in a moment when she was distracted, he had caught her off guard with a lucky swing that knocked her out before fleeing.

Nancy couldn't tell anyone about what really happened, for so many reasons. She could get suspended for failing to subdue a naked unarmed target, losing her gun or putting Syd at risk by not verifying the information. Not to mention her reputation would be ruined if people knew she was fucked in like a cheap slut and left lying on the floor covered in jizz!

After being fucked by Vincent and fleeing the motel, she could not bring herself to go home to Patrick and Izzy, at least not yet. Nancy drove to a different motel the other side of town. Drowning her sorrows with tequila and passing out drunk that night might not have been the wisest decision, but it gave her some respite from any aftermath.

The following morning, a hungover Nancy called in sick, bought some clothes to hide the bruises and went home to grovel. Patrick was infuriatingly understanding of the BS story she gave as to why she abondend Izzy at the airport. He simply made a nice dinner for the three of them and rambled on about his trip.

Nancy barely paid attention, feigning interest while her thoughts drifted off to the previous day, replaying every sordid detail in her head. Her pussy almost dripped as the image of Barreta's thick member came to her memory. The feeling of fullness as she failed to take his cock down her throat, his tounge slithering around and inside her most private areas... how much did she enjoy his full manhood forcing himself into her pussy, while her helpless prone body could do little but accept the fucking?

Nancy was in no state to have sex with Patrick, regardless of how small his penis was by comparison, or how vanilla his prefences normally were. Fortunately, Nancy was able to satisfy him with a quick blowjob, that unfortunately only fuelled her inner desires to be abused again.

Nancy lay in bed, unable to sleep, so wandered downstairs to cool off with some water. Opening the fridge door for a chilled bottle, her eyes were drawn to a box left on the kitchen counter. Finding the package addressed to her, she tore open the box to find her gun, complete with bullets and unloaded clip in a memory foam case.

With the gun, was a blank card, the size of a business card, with one sentence... 'See you soon butt slut.' The good news was that she didn't need to report that the gun was stolen. The bad news was that Vincent Beretta knew where she lived.

As the second morning after arose, while showering, she found that all the remaining markings had surfaced. The most compelling of note we're five oval shaped bruises on each hip, representing the vice like grip Vincent held on to her while he had mercilessly pounded her into oblivion...

Syd should have been a bit more suspicious of the story, but they had got Wesson, and Nancy looked like she had been in a tustle and came away worse off, not that she shared too many details. Yet, since her sick day, Nancy seemed distracted, appearing as if her mind was permanently wandering when work got dull.

Nancy was indeed distracted, unwilling to report what happened, so she had to process the events by herself. Consequently, she was also unable to get a full night's sleep, constantly replaying the motel room in her dreams.

Every night, Nancy would wake from her nightmare, sometimes disoriented, sometimes in a panic. But regardless of how she woke at 4am, despite her feelings, she always woke wet and aroused!

By the fourth night of disturbed sleep, instead of laying in bed awake, waiting for the sum to rise, Nancy was taking a shower straight after waking from her dreams. Washing away the night sweats, she would frig herself, unwillingly fantasising situations of herself being abused in demented ways. Tears of dispair ran down her face in the shower as her climax would reach its crescendo only after the face of her tormentor was imagined into view... Vincent Berreta!!

"NANCY!" Syd shouted, waking her from her daydream.