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Author Topic: PC Shah Got what she Deserved  (Read 105 times)

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Offline HungryFollower

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PC Shah Got what she Deserved
« on: August 18, 2020, 07:20:18 AM »
A series of fantasies about a hot cop turn real when she annoys the gangster boss. She ends up being, well, delicious.

PC Shah Got what she Deserved

PC Shah was a leggy young beauty,
Most fierce in devotion to duty,
But her succulent rump
Gave gangsters the hump
And plans for the rape of the cutie.

PC Shah had such noble ideals!
Said the Sergeant, “I know how she feels!
Though ‘sexist!’ she cried,
I slapped her backside.
That meat would make several meals.”

PC Shah was a friend to the poor
And believed in the power of the law,
But the bitch had a cunt
For villains to hunt
To make her a slave and a whore.

She was friendly, intelligent, fearless,
But surely not titless or rearless
And if she was captured
By gangsters enraptured,
She would not be screamless or tearless.

To kids she was always a friend,
But when the slut happened to bend,
There was hungry-eyed leer
At the size of her rear,
A target she could not defend.

Stiff penises proudly rose high,
(Their owners could scarcely say why)
For their minds were salacious,
Her arse was curvaceous
And their thoughts were ingenious and sly.

Some ill-wisher threw a small apple,
Which hit her right over her crap-hole.
There were peals of laughter
As she clutched what came after
In pointless concern for her trap-hole.

In the station, she went for a shower;
Policemen who used to be dour
Viewed the well-disguised camera
And wanted to hammer her
And pluck the rich Orient’s flower.

She had such a wonderful smile!
Her arse could be seen for a mile
As patrolling, she strutted,
Magnetically butted,
Or bent to get over a stile.

As she spoke to the tramp on a bench,
His mate sniffed an odour of tench
And their thoughts were as one
That her rape would be fun.
Should they brick her, or bottle the wench?

She loathed the corrupt and the snide
And had an outstanding backside.
She was long overdue
For rough buggery and screw
And to beat out her smiles and her pride.

The Inspector had something to stifle:
His weapon rose up like a rifle
At his fantasies wild
As she entered and smiled:
It rose up as high as the Eiffel.

She lectured on love between races,
But muggers tore off all her lacies
And their belts plied, relentless,
Where the bitch wasn’t scentless,
The prettier of her two faces.

She always tried hard to be fair.
Splayed over the back of a chair,
She would scream, she would plead
Till she welcomed their seed
And twenty queued up for their share.

She was hard on the thugs and the trickers,
Which might be why they tore off her knickers;
What they found there was sweet
To fuck and to eat
And wouldn’t be turned down by vicars.

On the Sergeant she made a report
And so she was hotly outfought
And her cunt and her arsehole,
To which he was partial,
Made pleasant and richly-earned sport.

She featured in so many fantasies!
Good luck to the man who her panties sees!
And hardly a male
Didn’t lust for her tail,
With just a few Gays for antitheses.

She spent many hours in the gym,
Which tightened her buttocks and quim;
She was well-honed and fit
In the arse and the tit,
A match for the foul and the grim.

By her was the Boss man arrested!
He saw she was large-double-breasted
And had a big rear,
So with chuckle and sneer
He said he was quite interested.

He said, “You are quite plumply arsed;
In fact, it’s protuberant and vast;
I’ll remember you, slut,
When my rumpsteak is cut.”
Somehow, he was freed very fast.

She was brave, conscientious and kind
And had a stupendous behind;
That’s why she was stalked
And proudly uncorked;
Her arse for the lash was designed.

No cop could be fitter or braver;
She hated the dealer and slaver;
She could not be hotter –
That’s why the boys got her,
To discover the cop nipple flavour.

She offended the Boss, silly cunt!
She was easy to stalk and to hunt.
A dart in her rump
And she fell with a thump
And she got it aback and affront.

Her torture was wonderfully sweet;
She was such a pleasure to beat
On her arse, on her tits,
On her thighs, on her slits,
On her face and the soles of her feet.

They saw she was valiant and fair,
So they put the slut over a chair
And to keep her from harm,
They lopped off an arm
And for balance, they made it a pair.

They set up a rota for raping her;
They left a few hooks and some tape in her;
When they’d all had their fill,
They made out a bill
For ninety-six pounds for reshaping her.

Then they sold her for sex to a Saudi,
Whose parties were crowded and rowdy:
And the men who went in her
Before drinks and dinner
Said “Zdravtvuyte”, “Marhabaan” and “Howdee!”

She soon had a wide reputation
As the very best arse that was Asian,
But the Sheikh had her roasted
And to his mates boasted,
“My fart was a lovely sensation!”


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