Karmic Downfall

As time restarted, the slutty bitch was actually moaning. She must have loved anything stuffed her cunt, and it was certainly overly full now. John stopped time again, and then sped it up three days to her. Now her unwashed pussy reeked and had lost all it's tautness, permanently stretched by the big package. Her pubic stubble had sprouted and it was quite clear the carpet didn't match the curtains. He worked up her clit until she was on the brink of orgasm, and then let the police proceed.

"What the Hell?", one officer opined as a slick, stinking plastic bag, covered in her juices came plopping out, along with her own personal baggie, her pussy now loose enough to drop a coke can without effort, let alone the baggies. The sudden sensation and exposure was enough for what John had hoped, driving her over the edge of orgasm. John laughed with the cackling of the crowd.

"Loose lips lost her stash!", a woman laughed, "Talk about a coke whore!".

"Uhh, smells like an old tuna troller.", shouted a disgusted, formerly horny man.

"What happened to her undie-wear?", a confused kid asked, loud enough for all to hear. Everyone laughed, but her.

The wheels of justice turn slowly, but John could speed anything up.

In a few hours the two were in jail and separately interrogated.

In a few days, the man was talking with his lawyer while his wife was still in prison,

"The charges against your wife are quite serious, but..."

I stole the carefully prepared legal drafts from the landlord's lawyers. What was this bullshit? Bank record discrepancies, lawsuit threats against police, get away with it and using his money to do it...? I shredded them, then went to his computer.

Pfff, as if. She wasn't getting away that easily. I typed out some helpful suggestions, flashing a blank table in front of the lawyers eyes to panic him enough into clinging to the new notes.