You report back after an important mission [TIMESKIP]

[Disclaimer: this happens after a timeskip from the previous chapter. I will gradually fill the hole between them, but was feeling motivated to do a different setup with my fav BJU characters]

You swaggered back into the precinct after whatever half-assed “mission” the universe had dumped you into this time, still reeking of cheap perfume, pussy juice, and someone else’s throat slime. Your skinny frame cut its usual pathetic silhouette under the fluorescent lights, but you strutted like you owned the place, retard confidence rolling off you in waves. The soft gray sweatpants did nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of the pale monster cock you’d used your BJU powers to grow—uncut, dense with wiry hair at the base, hanging like a meat club against your thigh with every step. You knew every stacked slut in the bullpen was looking. The stripper-cops in their barely-there uniforms, the desk whores with their bursting blouses, the delivery chicks bent over whatever—they were all watching the skinny, armpit-stinking loser with the upgraded package strut past like a king. That was the whole point. That was why your eyes locked straight on the little secretary desk near the chief’s door.

The first throat you’d fucked was there.

The cute nerdy chocolate girl sat typing away like she was the most proper little office assistant in the world. Soft pastel halter top in a sweet baby-pink that hugged her respectable, perky chocolate tits just tight enough to make the fabric strain across the soft curves, the thin straps leaving her shoulders and the upper swell of her cleavage bare. A short pleated plaid skirt flared around her hips, high white socks climbing up her calves, and cute brogue patent leather loafers completed the prim little schoolgirl-secretary look. Playful braided pigtails framed her adorable face, and a pair of cute round glasses perched on her nose. She still wore that polite, careful little smile she always put on when she thought nobody was looking—the same soft, almost timid expression she’d worn the first time she’d been ordered to her knees and choked unconscious on your cock while Chief Neils and that tall choco-tits agent coached her.

The second she glanced up and caught sight of the massive shape pressing against the front of your sweatpants, the smile faltered. Her dark eyes went wide behind those cute glasses for a heartbeat before she forced the polite look back on, shoulders straightening like a good little secretary who definitely hadn’t been the first throat you’d ever facefucked in this precinct.

“Oh—welcome back, Mr. David,” she said, voice soft and careful, every word carefully measured and prim. “I hope the field work went… well? Chief Neils has been waiting for your report. I filed everything from last time just the way she asked, and I’ve been keeping the dossiers organized so—”

You didn’t answer right away. Just grinned that same wolfish, dumb-as-a-brick grin and walked straight up until the heavy outline in your sweatpants was right in her face, knowing full well every stacked slut in the bullpen was still watching. Her breath hitched. She sat frozen, hands hovering over the keyboard, staring at the thick, obvious shape like a deer that had just realized the headlights belonged to a truck that wasn’t stopping. Her glasses slipped a tiny bit down her nose.

“Yeah, it went fine,” you said, already reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants. “You remember last time, right? First throat I fucked in this whole building. The one where you took your top off, let me play with those soft chocolate tits, and then tried real hard to follow all that advice your boss and that tall choco-tits agent gave you?” You yanked the front of the sweatpants down and hauled out the pale monster cock you’d upgraded with your BJU powers—uncut, thick as a wrist, long enough that the heavy foreskin-covered head slapped against your lower belly, dense wiry hair coating the base and balls, the whole thing rank and heavy and still half-slick from whatever throat and cunt you’d just finished using. It bobbed right in front of her cute nerdy face, the loose foreskin already starting to peel back from the shiny head under its own weight. “Do it again.”

Penny’s lips parted. A tiny, helpless sound slipped out. She pushed her glasses back up with one trembling finger, trying so hard to keep that prim, proper tone even as her eyes locked on the hairy, uncut monster that was clearly bigger than anything she’d practiced on last time. “I… I really shouldn’t, sir. I’m supposed to be filing the new facefucker reports, and Chief Neils specifically said I needed to stay focused on paperwork today. It wouldn’t be professional to just—just stop everything and—”

“Chief Neils,” you cut in, still grinning, voice loud enough to carry so every watching slut could hear. “You wanna tell her why her favorite little chocolate secretary is suddenly too good to suck dick? Because I can march right into her office and let her know her cute nerdy assistant decided she’s above it. Or maybe I’ll just call her on that intercom and tell her the little doll is refusing to do the one thing she’s actually good for.”

That did it. The resistance crumbled the way it always did, but she still tried to hold onto the polite façade even as her eyes dropped to the thick, pale shaft bobbing inches from her mouth. She swallowed hard, then leaned forward and wrapped both hands around the hairy base like she was trying to remember every single piece of guidance her boss and Agent Frelling had drilled into her last time. Her fingers couldn’t even close all the way around it.

“Think of it like making out with his cock,” she whispered to herself, almost under her breath, the words shaky but determined. “Don’t touch it with your teeth… massage it with your tongue… gather your saliva…” Her tongue flicked out, tentative at first, then more deliberate as she licked a slow, wet stripe up the underside, coating the pale skin and pushing at the thick foreskin that still half-covered the head. She tried to gather spit the way she’d been taught, but the sheer size of the uncut monster made it harder; the loose foreskin slid under her tongue with a wet, fleshy drag, and the dense wiry hair at the base already tickled her nose and cheeks. She took as much of the head as she could between her soft lips and started bobbing in short, careful strokes, using her neck the way Frelling had told her, trying to keep a rhythm instead of making you do all the work. Her cheeks hollowed around the thick girth. A soft, experimental hum vibrated around the foreskin-covered head as she remembered the part about moaning and humming. Different angles—she tilted her head a little, then a little more, trying to find the one that felt best for you while those cute glasses fogged slightly at the edges and the heavy foreskin kept threatening to roll back over her tongue.

You let her struggle with the techniques for maybe thirty seconds, watching the prim little chocolate secretary do her absolute best to be a good student on a cock that was clearly too much for the careful lessons she’d been given. Then you got bored. You grabbed both of her thick braided pigtails, wound them tight around your fists, and yanked her face all the way down. The head of your pale monster cock punched straight into her throat with a wet, choked gluck, the thick foreskin peeling back hard against her lips as the hairy base smashed into her nose. Penny’s eyes bulged behind the cute glasses. Her hands flew up to your thighs, but she didn’t push—she just held on while you started fucking her skull like it was a cheap fleshlight, completely ignoring every careful bit of advice she’d been trying so hard to follow. The first few brutal thrusts knocked her glasses completely askew; the next hard slam sent them flying off her face entirely, clattering onto the desk beside the keyboard while tears already streaked down her bare cheeks.

“That’s more like it,” you grunted, hips snapping forward, the dense hair at the base grinding against her nose and upper lip with every thrust. “Fuck, look at you. Little bookish secretary with the pastel top and the cute glasses turning into a proper throat-slut the second a real dick shows up. You love this shit, don’t you? Sitting at your desk all day pretending to be useful and prim and proper while your cunt’s just waiting for some loser to walk in and use your face. All that coaching from Chief Neils and Frelling, and you still need me to remind you how it works on a proper monster cock.”

Tears poured down Penny’s cheeks. She tried—God, she tried—to take the abuse better, drooling harder, forcing her tongue to keep massaging the thick shaft and the heavy foreskin even while you were battering the back of her throat. Every time you pulled back she gasped wetly around the massive girth, the loose foreskin dragging over her lips, then you slammed home again and the wet schluck-schluck-schluck filled the little office space. Spit poured down her chin and soaked the front of her cute pastel belter top, glazing those perky chocolate tits and turning the soft pink fabric dark and translucent. Strings of thick phlegm stretched and snapped with every brutal thrust, her throat convulsing around the pale, hairy monster like it was trying to milk you dry even as she struggled for air. Her glasses lay forgotten on the desk, lenses already dotted with spit. The pleated plaid skirt had ridden up her thighs, high white socks and cute brogue loafers still planted neatly on the floor like she was trying to stay proper even while getting her skull used.

The intercom on her desk crackled to life.

“Penny.” Chief Neils’s voice came through sharp and bossy. “Bring the facefucker dossier in here. Now. And don’t make me wait.”

Both of you froze for half a second—Penny with a thick, uncut monster cock still buried past her tonsils, you staring at the neat stack of folders sitting right next to the keyboard and her discarded glasses. A slow, nasty grin spread across your face. You ignored the panicked, pleading look in her watery eyes and pulled out with a long, wet retching sound. Thick strands of spit and precum stretched from her swollen lips to the shiny, foreskin-peeled head of your dick, dripping onto the lenses of the cute glasses still lying on the desk.

“Guess the paperwork’s gotta wait,” you said, already shoving Penny’s face down onto the desk. You sat your skinny ass right on the back of her head, pinning her cheek to the wood right beside the glasses, and reached back to spread your cheeks. “Open up, chocolate secretary. Time to put that tongue to better use than filing. And if you don’t make my asshole feel good enough, I’ll tell Chief Neils exactly how useless her prim little assistant is when she’s not choking on cock.”

Penny’s muffled whimper was cut off when you mashed her face deeper. Her tongue found your taint first—the rank, sweaty strip of flesh between your balls and hole, already musky and sour from a long day of your armpit-stinking loser body mixed with leftover pussy juice and throat slime, the dense wiry hair there matted with old sweat and the leftover spit from earlier holes. She licked it in hot, slick, desperate little strokes, tasting the thick funk of unwashed skin and the heavy, animal smell that clung to every inch of you. Then you shifted and shoved her mouth higher until she was forced to rim you properly, her tongue pushing into the tight, rank pucker while the same sour musk coated her lips and chin. The wet, filthy sounds of her tongue working your asshole mixed with the dull thud… thud… thud… of you bouncing her head against the desk every few seconds just for fun, a steady rhythmic beat that never stopped. Your pale, hairy monster cock dragged across the open dossiers the whole time, smearing thick ropes of precum over witness statements and crime-scene photos, leaving the papers glossy and ruined, the heavy foreskin leaving wet streaks across the ink.

You kept talking, voice casual and mean, still thudding Penny’s skull into the wood in that same lazy rhythm. “Fucking look at this. Fancy government paperwork covered in my dick juice. Bet the real facefucker would cream himself if he saw how easy the chief’s little office slut folds. Keep licking, bitch. Work that tongue deeper into that rank taint. Maybe if you make my asshole feel good enough I’ll let you breathe sometime this century. Or maybe I’ll just march you into Neils’s office with my cum still drying on your glasses and let her decide what to do with a secretary who can’t even rim properly.”

Penny’s body had gone almost limp under you, running on pure autopilot—tongue still swirling over the sour, sweaty flesh, spit still flooding, soft wet sounds never stopping even while her legs twitched weakly against the floor in those high white socks and cute brogue loafers. Her soft lips sealed around your hole as best they could, that clumsy bookish tongue pushing deeper every time you ground down, the heat of her breath and the slick mess of her drool painting your taint and the dense hair on your balls while the thud… thud… thud… of her head against the desk kept perfect time.

The door swung open.

Chief Zuka Neils stepped in, blonde hair perfect, tits barely contained by the unbuttoned blouse, expression already irritated. She took one look at the scene—her secretary’s face buried under your ass, documents destroyed, the pale hairy monster cock glistening and hard—and sighed like this was just another Tuesday.

“Oh, Penny. I didn’t know we have guests. Thanks for entertaining our eyes and ears.” Her voice was cold and clipped, pure boss energy. She glanced down at the cum-stained papers, then added in the same icy tone, “But next time, try not to make such a mess, darling.” She used the demeaning little pet name like it was the most natural thing in the world. “At least your head is finally being put to better use, doll. All those hours filing and you still managed to ruin the facefucker documents the second a cock showed up.”

You grinned down at her, still bouncing Penny’s skull in that steady thud… thud… thud… against the wood. “Told you, Chief. Your little prim secretary folds the second a real dick walks in. Look at this mess—paperwork covered in my precum, glasses fucked clean off her face, and she’s still licking my rank taint like it’s the only thing she’s good at. Best use of her head you’ve ever gotten out of her.”

Neils’s eyes flicked from the ruined dossiers to your cock and back again. Quick thinking and pure slutty professionalism kicked in at once—she figured the fastest way to stop you from completely destroying the rest of the paperwork was to give you something better to do with that monster. She strutted forward without another word, leaned awkwardly over the desk so her massive blonde tits hung right in front of you, and wrapped those soft, heavy globes around your spit-slick, pale shaft in one smooth motion. The angle was clumsy—half-bent over the ruined files, one knee braced against the edge—but the technique was silky and expert, the warm cleavage swallowing the thick uncut length completely while she started working them up and down with perfect pressure. Her mouth dropped to the head at the same time, tongue sliding under the heavy foreskin for a precise little BJ combo that never broke rhythm.

You didn’t notice any of the professionalism or the awkward lean. You just stared straight down the deep valley of Chief Mc Bimbo’s tits, grinning like a retard while she titfucked and sucked you, completely oblivious to anything except the soft, warm flesh wrapped around your cock and the thud… thud… thud… of Penny’s head still bouncing under your ass.

“Mr. David,” she said around the head of your cock, voice still smooth and professional even while her tongue flicked the piss slit. “Glad you’re back. We’ve got new leads on the facefucker case.”

You just kept staring at those massive blonde tits, hips bouncing lazily. “Yeah. Looking forward to the debrief.”

She kept the silky titfuck/BJ combo going without missing a beat, warm flesh and wet mouth working the pale monster while Penny kept muffling soft, broken apologies straight into your rank taint and you kept the rhythmic thud… thud… thud… of her head against the desk going just for the fun of it. The dense wiry hair at the base scratched lightly against the soft underside of Neils’s tits with every stroke.

You kept bouncing your skinny hips, grinding your rank taint down onto Penny’s face while Chief Neils worked your cock between those heavy blonde tits. The soft, warm flesh swallowed you completely with every upward stroke, the tight valley of her cleavage already slick with spit and the thin leak of precum that kept beading from your piss slit under the heavy foreskin. She didn’t break rhythm once while you started talking.

“So I went down to that dive on the east side,” you said, voice thick with the same dumb pride you always got when you were balls-deep in something warm. “Place was packed with the usual underworld types. You know—leather jackets, cheap tattoos, chicks trying to look dangerous. Real tough-girl act. Didn’t matter. I told the first one to get on her knees and open up. She put up that little token fight for maybe ten seconds, then I had her gagging so hard she puked a little on my shoes. Facefucked her until her mascara was halfway down her neck. Then I pulled out, flipped her around, and shoved it straight up her ass. No lube, nothing. Just spit. After I wrecked that hole I made her clean me off with her mouth. Ass-to-mouth, right there in the middle of the bar. The rest of them watched like it was free entertainment.”

Chief Neils hummed thoughtfully around the head of your cock, then popped off with a wet little smack. A thin string of saliva still connected her lower lip to the shiny, foreskin-peeled head. She looked up at you with that same cold professional stare she used in briefings, still leaning awkwardly over the desk so her tits never left your shaft.

“And the second girl?” she asked, already sliding her tongue under the loose fold of your heavy foreskin, flicking it carefully around the sensitive ridge before taking the head back between her lips. Her technique was precise—slow, deliberate swirls under the hood, then a firm suck that pulled the foreskin back just enough to expose the piss slit so she could jab the tip of her tongue into it. Every few strokes she would squeeze her tits tighter around the thick shaft and bounce them in short, milking pumps while her mouth worked the top few inches like she was trying to vacuum the cum out of you.

You grunted and thrust harder into the soft cleavage, the motion sending another solid thud of Penny’s head against the desk. Her muffled pleas had gone soft and watery.

“Mmmph—please… can’t… breathe…”

Neither of you paid it any attention.

“Second one tried to act like she was some kind of enforcer,” you continued, grinning down at the blonde working your cock. “Big talk, bigger tits. I bent her over the pool table, spit on her asshole, and just went to town. Railed her until she was crying into the felt. Then I made her crawl over and clean the first girl’s ass off my dick. By the time I finished the third one—some skinny bartender with a pierced tongue—half the bar was on their knees waiting their turn. I facefucked every single one of them. Ass-fucked a couple more just because I could. Left the place looking like a porno set after a gangbang. Cum on faces, cum in hair, spit strings everywhere. Weak lead, though. Nobody knew shit about the real facefucker.”

Chief Neils pulled off again, lips shiny, and asked in that same clipped, all-business tone, “Did any of them resist once you had your cock in their throat? Or did they break immediately?” She didn’t wait for the answer before diving back down, this time taking you deeper so her nose pressed into the soft valley of her own cleavage while her tongue continued that relentless little dance under your foreskin and across the slit. The dense hair at the base brushed her chin. She kept the awkward lean over the desk the whole time, slutty professionalism never slipping even while she titfucked and sucked the monster clean.

Penny’s noises had deteriorated into wet, broken whimpers. You kept the rhythm going—short, hard thrusts that slammed the back of her skull into the desk with a steady thud… thud… thud… Her body had gone almost completely limp underneath you, arms slack, legs no longer twitching in those high white socks and cute brogue loafers, cute glasses still lying forgotten and spit-flecked on the desk.

“Most of them broke the second I grabbed their hair,” you said, voice casual. “One tried to claw at my legs. I just shoved deeper until she stopped. Felt good.”

The chief gave a small, approving nod around your cock, then released you with another wet pop. She stood in one smooth motion, tits still out, the heavy globes jiggling as she adjusted her blouse just enough to keep from falling completely free. “Solid fieldwork, Mr. David. We’ll log the intel. Come with me. Final debrief in my office.”

She turned without another glance at the mess on the desk and started walking. You finally lifted your ass off Penny’s face. The chocolate secretary slid sideways and hit the floor in a weak, boneless heap, a thin string of spit still connecting her swollen lips to your rank taint, pastel belter top completely soaked and transparent, pleated plaid skirt rucked up around her hips, glasses still lying on the desk where you’d fucked them off her face. Chief Neils stepped right over the crumpled body in those clear stripper heels, the sharp click of each step ignoring the soft, wet coughs coming from the floor.

You followed, the pale, hairy monster cock still hard and shiny, not even noticing the cluster of uniformed police whores who had stopped to watch from the bullpen doorway. Their eyes tracked the bobbing length of you as you disappeared into the chief’s office after her. The door clicked shut behind you.

MEANWHILE - on the outside

Officer Maxine Guzz stood outside the chief’s office with her arms crossed under those massive tits, baton still hooked at her hip, trying to look like she gave a single shit about protocol. The door was thick oak, the kind that should have swallowed every sound, yet the wet, rhythmic schluck-schluck-schluck still leaked through the seams. Behind the frosted glass she could make out two blurred shapes: one tall and blonde, the other skinny and pale, locked together and moving hard.

“Jesus,” she muttered, voice low enough that only the three other uniformed whores clustered nearby could hear. “Listen to that limp-dicked little loser in there. Chief’s gonna be disappointed when he pops in under a minute.”

A freckled redhead in a half-zipped patrol shirt snorted and casually adjusted the front of her short-shorts, fingers lingering a little too long between her legs. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t even last long enough to finish the ‘debrief.’ Remember the last time we brought a civilian consultant in on the facefucker case? Guy came so fast the paperwork was still warm.”

Maxine’s hand drifted up almost without thinking, cupping one heavy breast through the thin fabric of her midriff top and giving it a slow squeeze. She kept her eyes on the glass like she was just monitoring the situation. “Standard operating procedure for these pencil-dicks. They talk a big game about undercover work, then they blow their load the second a real pair of tits gets involved. I’d bet my next shift the chief’s already bored.”

Inside, the shadows shifted. The taller silhouette rose up, straddling, then started bouncing hard enough that the desk under them gave a dull wooden creak every time she came down. A muffled, bossy voice filtered through the door—Chief Neils, still trying to sound professional even while she was clearly riding cock.

“Deeper… right there… keep that rhythm, Mr. David… that’s an order—”

The words dissolved into a wet, choked moan as the skinny shape underneath her thrust upward hard enough to lift her off the desk for a second. Maxine’s fingers tightened on her own tit. She could feel her nipple stiff under the fabric.

“See?” she said, forcing a sneer. “He’s already losing control. Classic civilian consultant behavior. No stamina. We’ll be writing the after-action report before the coffee gets cold.”

The freckled redhead had given up pretending. Her hand was openly rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of her shorts while she watched the glass. Another officer—tall, dark-skinned, hair pulled back in a tight bun—leaned against the wall and idly thumbed one of her own exposed nipples, voice casual. “Maybe we should prepare the intake forms for when he collapses. Standard post-coital protocol. Make sure the chief doesn’t have to handle the cleanup herself.”

The shadows changed again. The blonde shape was suddenly bent forward, tits mashed flat against the frosted glass, the skinny one behind her driving in with short, brutal strokes. Every thrust made the glass rattle. Your voice came through in raw, Neanderthal grunts, loud enough to cut through the thick door.

“Fucking take it, you stuck-up bitch—take every inch—your tight little chief cunt is mine now—”

Chief Neils’s reply started out sharp, still trying for command. “Harder—don’t you dare slow down—that’s an order, Mr. Dav—ahhh—fuck—”

The last word broke into a long, high, muffled scream of pure arousal. Her body jerked hard against the glass. A sudden clear spray hit the inside of the window and ran down in thick rivulets, mixing with the fog of your breath. You kept pounding through it, hips slamming, grunting like an animal.

“Gonna fill this bossy hole—take my load, you expensive whore—”

You buried yourself deep and stayed there, body locked, while the chief’s legs shook and another gush of squirt painted the glass. A few seconds later you pulled out. Thick, white ropes of cum splattered across the frosted pane in heavy streaks, overlaying the clear trails already dripping toward the floor. The two blurred shapes stayed pressed together for a long moment, chests heaving, before the chief’s silhouette slowly straightened and reached for something that might have been a tissue.

Maxine’s hand was still moving between her legs, slower now, almost thoughtful. She cleared her throat and forced her voice back into that stuck-up professional register.

“Looks like the debrief is concluded. We’ll give them sixty seconds, then knock. Standard procedure.”

The other three officers nodded, still openly touching themselves, eyes fixed on the cum-streaked glass like it was the most interesting piece of evidence they had seen all week.