Radio crackles. Night air thick with city pulse. Montreal streets hum under neon. I’m 1-85, supervisor. Day job: control. Night: something wilder brews.
Paul’s voice, excited. ‘1-150, stolen vehicle, two suspects. Man driving, woman passenger.’ Heart kicks. Not just chase. Thighs clench. Heat builds low.
The Mutation
We box them at St-Laurent red light. Bob yanks driver. Paul at passenger door, locked. She’s hot. Twenty. Long blonde hair. Black V-neck hugging curves. My eyes linger. Pulse races.
Driver snaps. Reverses hard. Smashes 1-150. Bob, Pete dive. Dan freezes as it lunges forward. I floor it. Slam left. Ram their front right. Deviate them. Power surges. Adrenaline floods pussy. Wetness soaks panties. Mask cracks.
He pushes. I shove back. Tires screech. Metal grinds. He’s trapped. Or so I think. Breaks free. South on St-Laurent, wrong way. I pursue. City blurs. Breasts bounce with every jolt. Nipples hard against vest. This is it. Mutation hits. No more cop. Secret Heroine awakens. Craving control. Cock of the wheel throbs like a lover.
Crash into 1-151. Head-on. I stop inches away. Blonde bails. Panicked eyes. Hands empty. I watch. She rolls between cars. Hair whips my window. Driver backs. Rips my rear. Fauch Bob onto hood. Paul fires. Useless.
I spin 180. Chase west on Maisonneuve. Bob tumbles safe. Suspect corners sharp. We fly. Radio: ‘1-85 in pursuit.’ Clutch sticks. 1-8 takes lead. Streets whip by. Bleury. Universite. McGill College cobbles slick. Suspect fishtails into backhoe. Boom. Done.
He staggers out. Unhurt. Runs. Into underground garage. Dark maw swallows him. We follow. Guns drawn. He turns. Knife flashes at Jacques. Shots ring. Five bangs. He drops. Dead.
The Exploit
Chaos settles. Blonde suspect. Hurt. Stumbles from wreck. Titters to shadows. Alone. My chance.
I grab her arm. Yank into deeper dark. Alley off garage. Concrete cold. Her breath ragged. ‘Please…’ she whispers. Blonde strands stick to sweat-slick face.
No words. I pin her to wall. Rough. Hands above head. One grip. Knee parts thighs. She gasps. V-neck rips easy. Pale tits spill. Hard nipples beg. I bite one. Hard. She arches. ‘Fuck…’ moans escape.
My free hand dives jeans. Fingers find slick cunt. Soaked. I thrust in. Two. Curl. Pump hard. Like ramming their car. She bucks. ‘Yes… control me.’ I grind palm on clit. Own her. Lips crash. Tongue invades. Domination pure.
She shatters. Squirts on my hand. Body quakes. Mine throbs. Power orgasm rips me. No touch needed. Adrenaline peak. I cum hard. Juices flood.
Release her. She slumps. Eyes worship. ‘Your heroine.’ I zip up. Walk out. Colleagues swarm. I bark orders. Secure scene. Ambulance. Perimeter.
Rooftop now. City lights below. Pen scratches report. Ninety-seven seconds. 1.4 km. One dead. Wounds. Crashes. Shots. Blonde’s taste lingers on fingers. Secret burns inside. Stronger. They suspect nothing. I’m the everyday hero. But shadows know. Power pulses eternal.