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Blue Mirror (Corsair and Xana)

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"Jesus fucking Christ!" Joe snarled, slamming a scarred fist into the concrete wall. This was immediately followed by an agonized yelp of "shit! Fuck!" as he shook his hand out, flexing and wiggling the fingers and wincing as he did. Finally, swearing under his breath and satisfied that he hadn't broken anything, he sagged a little. "I don't know, ba... Claudia. But this is bullshit."

He just managed not to stomp and glare at the other detectives who whistled and catcalled as he followed her back to their desks. Throwing himself down in his chair with ill grace, he sighed heavily and dragged his hand over his face. "I don't fucking know, Claudia. He's guilty as fuck, but our only real evidence is an exploded bag of blood. If we try anything now, Kelly's lawyers will eat us alive, unless the DA does it first. The only way we can..."

"Damn, girl," Detective Krazinsky laughed as he walked up to the desk. He shook his head, sounding impressed. "You sure can put on a show."

"Bill," Joe sighed, "the fuck are you talking about? The Lieutenant reams us, and you..."

"No, man," Bill laughed. "That ain't the reaming I'm talking about." He leered at Claudia, then offered her a salute. "Hell of a side hustle."

"Bill..." The name came out as a growl, and Joe had to fight his temper down. Drawing a deep breath, he let it out slow. "I'll ask you again: what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Damn, dude. You don't know?" Bill looked shocked, then pulled out his phone and tapped at it. "Your partner here has a wild side. Check it out." He tapped a final button, and Joe's phone vibrated. "Ain't safe for work, but... well..."

Eying him skeptically, Joe unlocked his phone and checked his text messages. "Pornhub? The fuck, Bill? This is work." Hesitantly, he tapped the link and watched the page load. The thumbnail showed Claudia in a short tight skirt standing on a large table, surrounded by men in suits. The title read Police slut wrecked in boardroom. And the user name of the person who'd loaded it? CurvyRed_69, with a profile pic of Claudia in uniform.

"Fuck. Me," Joe breathed.

"Looks like you're the only one she hasn't," Bill laughed.

And that's when Joe punched him.
 
As video still loaded on the page, Claudia knew she would have been better off if a video of her shooting an unarmed person had popped up, instead.

Her career was over. Everything she'd done to be taken seriously, to prove herself more than a just woman, to prove she was as good a detective as any man, all of it, gone. Destroyed. Wrecked, like she apparently was in that boardroom.

Perhaps it was karma. Because Joe proposed, and she didn't say yes. Because he told her he loved her, and she didn't say it back. Because she fucked other guys, without even the excuse of going undercover.

The rest of her day went by in a numb haze. The meeting with Internal Affairs proceed as if she were watching in third person, and not a participant. Suspended, until they finished their investigation. It felt like a foregone conclusion.

Joe understood that she needed her space, and she promised to text him, later on. She could kept that promise, at least. In three hours, exactly, with her precise location.

Hey, Curvy Redhead! You up for a party? I don't do "quick", but I can sure do hard and dirty. And I got a few friends that'd be down for it as well.

The message, from a Tall, Dark and Dominant, was her chance to meet with Kelly, directly. It had to him. Taunting her, after everything he'd done. He thought he had in her in web. And that arrogance would make him sloppy, sloppy enough to finally catch him.

I'm having a rough day, and could use a rough fucking to clear my head. You want to help me get over it by getting under you?

This is was her stupidest plan yet.

Claudia could hear Joe's voice in her head as she dressed. She didn't bother to share the details with him, because he'd disapprove. Kelly couldn't win. Not like this. Not now that she had nothing left to lose.

In less than an hour, she'd meet up with Kelly. She would just have to survive two hours, and Joe would show up. Joe would save her, because he loved her. And she could endure this, because she deserved it.
 
Joe slumped on his couch, an open but untouched beer in his hand, staring blankly at the Netflix menu. It had taken three officers to pull him off Bill, who was far less badly injured than he’d intended. Because he’d vaguely planned to cave Bill’s fucking skull in, but the man was just nursing a broken nose and a split lip. So now he had 30 days paid suspension, pending an Internal Affairs review. And the “paid” part of the suspension was dependent on turning in the report the LT wanted, exactly as he wanted it.

And he was the lucky one. Because Claudia’s career was fucked. It didn’t matter what IA determined. Even if they cleared her on any ethics charges, no officer in the department would ever take her seriously. Hell, no police department anywhere would take her seriously.

Fucking Kelly. It had to be fucking Kelly. He wanted to put a bullet in the son of a bitch’s head, not that it would help Claudia. Not now.

Sighing, he checked his phone again. There was just his text to her: “I’m at my place with a case of Rolling Rock. Coming here, or should I bring it to you?” That had been sent three hours ago, not that he expected her to have seen it yet. His suspension was a quick thing, but IA would be raking her over the coals.

“I guess we do the TV thing and be PIs,” he muttered. “Get an office and a fedora, and scramble to make rent by spying on cheating husbands.” Then he made a snorting sound that could have been a bitter laugh, and checked his phone again.

Quitting time. Both of them would be going off shift, if the day hadn’t gone all to hell. Still no text, though. After a moment, he tapped out another message.

“If you don’t text, I’ll give you two hours to mope. Then I’m bringing the beer over.”
 
Everyone thought she was a whore? Fine, then she'd be a whore. With her low cut top, that barely covered her tits, and a micro-mini skirt, that barely covered her ass, Claudia looked the part. Hell, her thigh-high boots covered more skin that her outfit. She didn't bother with a bra or panties; didn't want Kelly to think she had any ideas other than getting fucked hard.

After tying on a long trench coat –she didn't need to attract any attention before she met up with Kelly– she began typing out a message to him on her phone. Before she could finish, however, another message popped up, from Joe.

If you don't text, I'll give you two hours to mope. Then I'm bringing the beer over.

The text tempted her, weakening her resolve. Joe loved her, wanted to spend his life with her. Hell, he nearly bear a man to death for insulting her. She could just go to him tonight, instead. Surprise him with her slutty outfit and have wild drunken sex all night and then sleep all day tomorrow. Kelly would pick up another woman, and kill her instead. She and Joe would live quietly ever after. Choosing Joe meant choosing life, a future, and letting Kelly win.

She'd always been a sore loser, however. So she typed out a quick message to Kelly made her way to her car.

So, where are we doing this?
 
Fifteen minutes assed before her phone chimed with a response: Belmont Harbor, slip 317. Thirty minutes.

Belmont Harbor wasn’t exclusive, per se. The marina was run by the city as part of their Parks District, and it was open to the public. But it was a public park very much located in a portion of the city acknowledged to be the wealthy part of town. Regular fundraisers helped supplement the operating budget of the park, and the police had a (strictly unofficial) policy of actively discouraging the presence of… undesirables. And of looking the other way when interacting with the residents.

The phone buzzed again. This time, the message was from Joe. Want Chinese with the beer? Or pizza?
 
Claudia was at a stoplight when the text from Kelly arrived. She intended to just glance quickly at it, but her stomach sunk as the implication set in. He wanted to meet on a boat. Isolated from anyone and utterly at his mercy. Even Joe would have a hard time reaching her there, probably not in time to save her.

The car behind her honked, drawing her out of her own mind and back to the green light beckoning her closer to her destination. To her demise, in all likelihood. Had he taken the other women aboard his boat? Maybe there was a camera at the docks. Might be enough to connect him to the other victims, if she could get surveillance footage.

Except, she wasn't a cop anymore, so she didn't have any chance of getting that footage. And Joe had gotten himself suspended for a month, so he couldn't get it either. Fuck. She was getting closer to the marina, and running out of options.

But…, what else did she really have left? Her career was over. She still had Joe, but how long would that last? How long before he realized they had little in common, without work uniting them. How long before he watched that video, and recognized her for the fucked up whore she was. This was one last good thing she could do, one last wrong she could right. At least this could get Joe back on the force, where he belonged.

Parked at the marina, she composed a text to Joe, and set it to send in two hours. He'd know exactly where she'd gone, if she disappeared. He'd know exactly where to start looking, where to find evidence, if she didn't make it out. And maybe, just maybe, he would make it on time. He'd pull her out, before Kelly could finish her off. He'd get everything they needed, to put that bastard behind bars.

Hell, maybe he'd even come to forgive her, eventually.

With a hopeful sigh, she made her way to the boat.
 
“Well,” Matthew Kelly announced from the deck of the boat. Dressed in khakis and a grey polo shirt and holding a can of beer, he looked like what he was - a banker taking it easy after work. This is a surprise! I had rather hoped that you were Curvy Redhead, but…”. He shrugged, then offered her a hand as she reached the top of the gangplank. His smile was warm and welcoming, but his hazel eyes were cold and predatory. “To be honest,” he continued, raising her fingers to his lips, “I thought it would take you a little longer. But… well, we both know how much of a thrill you get from our little games.”

“Is our guest here?” called a woman’s voice from below decks.

“Yes! She is!” Matthew called back, before giving Claudia a shrug and a way grin. “Everyone was looking forward to a good time, but I doubt anyone was quite expecting you. Come along. Let me introduce you.”

He led her below deck, down a well-lit stairway paneled with cherry and into a large room dominated by a queen-sized mattress inside a silver circle inlaid into the hardwood floors. Couches lined the bulkhead, each flanked by white wood end tables, and cushions of various sizes were scattered about.

Ewan Dowling sat on one couch, one leg on the floor and the other on the cushions. He nursed a beer and was paying more attention to his phone than the blonde woman who shared the couch with him. Both were dressed similarly in khaki shorts and blue polo shirts, although the woman’s shorts were cut to show off more leg.

Opposite, on the other couch, an Asian woman in cutoff jeans and a dark tank top was chatting animatedly with an older man with salt and pepper hair. From his clothes, a navy suit and light blue shirt, he must have arrived directly from the office. “What a delightful choice!” the Asian woman declared, looking up as the two entered the room. Then she blinked, and smiled. “Is that...”

“The enthusiastic young woman from our partners meeting!” the suit-wearing man interrupted, looking up as well. He smiled with a predatory pleasure. “Very nice to see you again!”

“She is, yes.” Kelly crossed the room to the bar, and poured himself a drink. “Detective Claudia Ross.” He turned back, and gestured with the amber-filled glass. “I believe you’ve met Ewan,” he said, “but probably not his wife Elizabeth.”

Ewan glanced up from his phone and lifted an eyebrow, then returned to whatever it was he was watching. Elizabeth gave a little wave, and then tipped a little white powder onto the back of her hand. “They’ll be a little more enthusiastic when we get started,” Kelly continued as she sniffed up the powder. “Really.” Then he gestured at the man in the suit. “You’ve already met Lawrence, of course. And this lovely lady is my wife Chi-Lai.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Chi-Lai smiled. “Would you care for a drink? William, be a dear and pour her a drink.”
 
It seemed impossible to put on a smile, with the heavy pit in her stomach, but somehow Claudia managed. "What choice did I have?" True words made false by her playful tone and sultry simper. Or, perhaps she was merely lying to herself, because a confusing heat rose up from her core, remembering the nights spent replaying the rapes and murders in her mind…

She met plenty of murderers in her career –well, former career–, but Claudia was not prepared for just how casual this mixed group of elite psychopaths were. How normal they were, in this moment. Was it just to get their prey at ease, until she were trapped out at sea? Or did really rape and torture with the same ease of a dinner party?

Matthew Kelly was still just as casual as he introduced her, "Detective Claudia Ross."

"Not detective anymore," she rebutted, trying her hardest to sound playful instead of bitter. "So, uh, no need to be all buttoned up around me…" Not that they were, of course. If anything, his wife seemed almost too eager to meet her, given how she'd slept with her husband before. Did she know about that too?

"Would you care for a drink? William, be a dear and pour her a drink." William was a clean cut young man with short wavy blond hair and boyish blue eyes. He seemed a little out of place, young enough he likely still got carded, but it occurred to Claudia that he might be a replacement for Sanal.

"I think we all know I'd enjoy a double," she quipped, finding refuge in her slutty persona. Alcohol would make this easier, right? It took an effort not to down the glass of bourbon she'd been handed, and effort to remind herself that rich fucks like this sipped and savored their expensive liquor. Instead she slipped off her jacket, revealing her revealing outfit to the rest of the boat. A whispered "damn" drew collective laughter from the group

"Sorry I didn't get the notice of the marina dress-code, but I doubt I have any Ralph Lauren in my closet anyways," She hoped the joke would disperse the intense attention directed at her, but the responding snickers were dark and predatory. Another drink, a little deeper into her glass. "But if it's that bad a transgression, I could always take it off…"

More laughs, more bourbon, more eyes on her. "So, what's up with the circle under the bed? You guys like to role-play as satanic cultist or something?"
 
“Satanists?” William laughed and refilled her drink. “No, no. Not satanists.”

Matthew nodded approvingly at his words. “Certainly not. We worship something older. Much more…”. He seemed to consider his words. “Much more real.” He smiled, the expression making his handsome features twist into something dark and predatory. “You must have sensed that.”

Chi-Lai rose from the couch. “She may not have, Gou.” Her eyes locked on Claudia’s, boring into her with the intensity of a serpent examining a mouse as she crossed the mattress towards her. “She may have been… distracted? Yes. Distracted.”

She caressed Claudia’s cheek with the back of her hand, her skin cool and dry. “Gou can be very distracting,” she whispered, breath cool on Claudia’s ear. She smelled of honey and peppers. “I know you know. I’ve watched him fuck you.”

Her hand slid lower, over the line of her throat and between her exposed cleavage. “Our God’s name is…” Here she made a sound, something vaguely like ‘eye goal oh neck’ with breathy vowel sounds and clicks at the glottal consonants. “And His title is…”

“The Defiler,” Matthew stated, watching her with hungry eyes. The name was repeated by each of the cultists in turn, voices becoming ecstatic.

“The Defiler,” Chi-Lai repeated, smiling with eyes like ice. Her hand flattened over Claudia’s breast, one finger exploring her cleavage.

A foot crashed into the back of Claudia’s knee. Chi-Lai stepped aside as she went down, sprawling into the mattress. As she hit, William straddled her from behind, shoving her head into the padding and clawing at the hem of her dress. “You’re my initiation, bitch,” he cackled, dragging the cloth up over her ass. He fumbled with his zipper. “Never fucked a cop before.” His cock emerged, hard against her ass. “You gonna scream like that last cunt?”
 
Holy shit. All of these people were crazier than she believed possible. A true to life insane murder cult. Chi-Lai, Matthew Kelly, the rest of them, they all believed this occult bullshit. True fucking believers.

She was, without a doubt, in way over her head.

Claudia let out a yelp as she crashed into the mattress, not wanting to give these bastards the satisfaction of her terror, but still caught off guard after Chi-Lai's seduction. She squirmed under William, but couldn't get far as he pinned to the mattress, fingers twisted in her hair and digging into her scalp. His cock jabbed her ass as she fought underneath him, denying him the acquiescence of an easy penetration. Struggling for every inch, she crawled away from him, just for him to grip her hips, and pulled her back, onto his cock.

She didn't scream as he drove into her, but screwed her eyes shut, holding in her pain, her dread, trying to force him out of her with tightening muscular walls. He thrust forth again, half his length tearing through her resistance. His fingers clawed at her hips, to keep her in position to take him, to take all of him. A sharp gasp turned into a shriek as he slammed into her again, forcing more of his cock into her. "Take it, bitch," he growled out, another thrust battering her cunt and splitting her walls open, forcing her to lubricate before he ripped her open on his dick. "Take it like the slut you are."

The next time he drove forward, forcing his hard shaft into her body, she retaliated, elbowing him right in the face. In the nose, as she felt that satisfying crunch, and he fell backward. Claudia threw herself forward, out of his grasp, out of arms reach, and landed awkwardly on her shoulder, half off the mattress. "Fucking Whore!" William roared, snatching one of her ankles. With her other foot she managed to kick his arm away, not hard but enough she could escape his grip and roll onto her back.

Her dress was still on, but no longer covered her to any practical degree. Her breasts had escaped in the struggle of the fight, and her skirt had ridden up her hips to bunch around her waist. But modesty was a distant concern to survival, to protecting herself from further rape.

The rest of the boat seemed mildly amused by their brawl, chuckling as if a clever aside had been uttered. Only William was showing any other emotion, rage and hate and hunger in his eyes as he stared down at her. "Hold this bitch down," he rasped, his face as red as his swollen cock.

"William, this is your initiation," Chi-Lai reminded him, in a light, almost playful tone, standing beside her husband with one arm around his shoulder. "Our God does not share his gifts with the unworthy." Matthew Kelly had an arm around her waist, and reach down to grab her ass, eliciting an excited squeal from her lips. "Then again, Gouxhal always does enjoy the feisty ones."

Claudia managed to get to her feet, her body aching and stinging and throbbing. Maybe she shouldn't fight it. It would be easier if she didn't struggle, didn't resist. Just let it happen. Then, as if nature itself was conspiring against her, a large wave rocked the ship and sent her crashing onto the coach next to Ewan Downing. His face twisted into a nasty snarl as he gathered up a fistful of hair and threw her back on the mattress.

William, who had kept balance by leaning against the wall, wasted no time in approaching her again, and kicked her in the gut to roll her back onto her stomach. Despite recognizing his intention, her instinct to protect herself took over, leaving her on her hands and knees as he dropped down behind her, and impaled her upon his cock once more.
 
“Fucking… fucking cunt,” William rasped out, wiping away the blood streaming from his nose with one hand and digging the nails of the other hand into her hip. His cock battered into her. “Fucking pig.” Now his other hand grabbed her hip as well, slipping on her skin and leaving a bloody smear of a handprint. “Think you’re too good for this?” His hips hammered into her ass, driving his cock into her. “I saw that video!” He laughed, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm behind her back when she lashed out. “You… were begging for it!”

As he hammered into her, Matthew picked up a small remote and pushed a button. Music began playing from concealed speakers, setting a rhythm for William’s brutal thrusts.

You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you

“Fucking pig,” William taunted, twisting her arm and forcing her chest and head against the floor. Blood dripped from his chin onto her ass. “Fucking pig whore.”

I broke apart my insides
(Help me) I've got no soul to sell
(Help me) the only thing that works for me
Help me get away from myself

William drove himself harder, laughing at her pained cries. “That’s it, pig! Squeal!” His voice was jerky, bursting out in time with the more cement of her dick. “Not so tough now, are you?”

I wanna fuck you like an animal

William roared a sound of primal triumph as he climaxed, emptying himself into her. As his cum gushed into her, Matthew stepped forward and handed him a long wire with a glowing tip. “Your sigil,” he proclaimed.

He took it. “Cunt,” he sneered. Then he touched the wire to the base of her neck Skin crisped and sizzled as the brand burned in, and the smell of burnt pork filled the air. He pulled out roughly, letting the last spurt of cum splatter over the burn.

“Who claims her next?” Matthew asked.
 
Tears filled her eyes as Claudia tried to hold back her scream, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Finally the burning stopped, and she released a pained whimper. The other women hadn't been burned. Why were they doing it different to her? What else would they do?

Ewan gathered her hair in his hand, twisting her head to look up at him. "I knew I'd get to shove my cock down your throat." His fingers tightened, yanking her hair at the root, and when she opened her mouth to cry out, he forced his cock between her lips.

Behind her, the mattress shifted. Someone else was lining up to rape her. "Lucky you, Ewan. No one expects you to get this one off." Must have been Ewan's wife, Elizabeth. With Ewan fucking her mouth, she couldn't see what the woman was doing, but felt the shift in her movement through the mattress.

"And an orgasm wouldn't cure your penis envy," Ewan shot back, forcing more of his length into her mouth. Meanwhile, something cool and hard brushed against her aching slit, and based on Ewan's taunting remark, she figured it must be some kind of dildo. Maybe glass, with how firm and smooth it was, rubbing against her clit.

"Well, why don't we make this fun for both of us then?" Soft hands turned rough, digging manicured nails into her hips to pull her onto the glass phallus. After the first rape, the unforgiving toy made her ache and clench. "Whoever cums first has to take it up the ass?"

"You're on, bitch," Ewan snarled, thrusting his full length into her mouth and throat. With a grip on her hair, he held her there for several moments, struggling to breath around his cock. He finally pulled away just enough to let her breathe and cough, sputtering spit over the purple head of his dick. "I'm going to make you cry harder than this slut."

The dildo drove forth, and hips slammed into her ass. "You wish. But I will enjoy listening to you beg for mercy, like last time."
 
As Elizabeth raped her cunt and Ewan raped her throat, Matthew knealt down beside her. “This is what you wanted,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “You came here, wanting this. Wanting to be violated.”

Chi-Lai knelt to her left, licking her tears from her face. A moan of pleasure escaped her. “Just as you did in the board room. You wanted those men, wanted to be used. To be violated.”

“Just like when you would mastrubate to the deaths of our sacrifices,” Matthew continued, nibbling at her earlobe. “Legs spread wide, clutching your talisman as you climaxed to their death agonies.”

“You should have worn one while your partner fucked you,” Chi-Lai added, nipping her throat. “Feeling their deaths while you cum is incredible.”

Ewan climaxed with a grunt and a convulsive thrust. His seed flooded Claudia’s mouth and throat, seeping from her lips and dripping down her chin in slick, pearly trails. Elizabeth cackled in triumph, and the unyielding glass cock in her cunt slid free.

“You want more,” Chi-Lai murmured, kissing Claudia’s bruised mouth. “Despite your denials, you want more. And you shall have more.” She unfastened a chain around her own throat and lifted it, letting the pendant that had nestled between her breasts swing free. It was a jade carving, exquisitely carved and utterly loathsome, depicting an obese headless man with a massive phallus and mouths in his palms.

“This is the true talisman of the Violator,” she purred, hanging it around Claudia’s throat. “Not the minor trinkets you have toyed with.”

Matthew rolled her into her back, then undid his pants and let them fall to the ground. His cock was fully erect, and precum glistened on his head. “The True Talisman has been charged by each and every holy rite it has witnessed.” He knelt between her thighs, hands caressing her stomach. As he did talons grew on his fingers, leaving thin bloody scratches in patterns on her skin.

“Every violation,” Chi-Lai whispered, kissing her again. “Every death agony. Our gift to you.” Her hands caressed her bloody stomach, then left bloody prints on her bare breasts. Then, as Matthew drove his meat into her, her fingernail tore the skin between Claudia’s breasts. Blood coated the grotesque pendant.

“Our gift,” Chi-Lau smiled, licking the blood from her fingers. “Pain and pleasure, for you.”
 
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