“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled in my ear. “Bad boys get punished.”“W-what?” I stuttered out.“You heard me.” he grinne..., “Get up.” He yanked me to my feet, then slung me over his back like a sack of rice.I swallowed the lump in my throat. I felt frozen, like a rabbit making eye contact with a dog before it barked and ran at them. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.What was he going to do to me? Clearly, they were both perverts. Did … that mean that his inflicted “punishments” would. With the last of his energy, and with the aid of his finger driving into her back hole, he got her there. She tightened with a grimace."Eeeh," she squeaked. "Oooh," she moaned as she relaxed, lying back on the table and pulsating into oblivion.Sitting in the booth at a diner open after midnight a couple blocks from headquarters, Sandy and Nakamoto shared a club sandwich. "Why do you want to know?" Nakamoto asked, answering a question with a question. Her inquiry into the Coleman case had broken. More

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