The Chicago Tribune ran the story on the front page. CITY TO LOSE 15.8 MILLION IN FEDERAL ANTI-CRIME GRANTS. Unless crime statistics dropped dramatically, that nice chunk of graft was going to dry up. Anyone who knows
The word was whispered by the Mayor, passed through the Commissioner and left to the street cops to interpret. The few remaining old-timers and their sons (who had grown up with drunk stories about the "good old days") predictably went on a mindless rampage. More "street corner justice" and less paperwork spent filling out arrest reports. Of course, it didn't work. Crime stats did not go down and complaints of brutality and racism against the PD skyrocketed. The media had a field day filming interviews with "victims" whose faces bore visual evidence of police beatings.
That's when they called in Nadia. She had been the only female Chief of Police in the
"A man gets very drunk, picks up an axe handle, and beats his wife and 14 year old daughter to a pulp. When the police arrive, he smashes the window of their car with a cinder block before surrendering at gunpoint. What is he charged with? You, on the left, speak up!"
Kim Davis, my academy training partner, gave a pat answer. " Public intoxication, domestic violence, assault with a deadly weapon, assault with intent to kill and resisting arrest with violence", she said.
Nadia smiled. "That's ONE answer. ONE solution. And the likely result is 30 days in jail. And more beatings for the wife and daughter until he eventually kills one or both. In the
I wasn't sure what the battery of tests we'd taken had revealed about us chosen six. On the surface, we were all very different types. And we certainly had different reactions when Nadia led us to the male Prisoner's shower room as the first part of our training. Their obscene gestures and comments made me blush, I confess. Monica Crane, on the other hand, mocked them back and flashed them a shot of her large breasts. Laughing at them. Nadia selected one of them. He wasn't quite the biggest con. But he had the biggest set of balls and the biggest mouth.
The selected con stood in the Police parking garage in his Jail Orange jumpsuit with a smug expression on his face. It was just like the academy again. An experienced officer, Nadia, showing us rookies a textbook arrest. In less than 30 seconds he was cuffed, Mirandized and pushed gently into a patrol car. We'd seen it before.
"Did you notice anything unusual about this simulated arrest?” Nadia asked. Come on, you are all trained observers. You noticed nothing?” We stood there silently and Nadia grinned with satisfaction. "Good. Then no civilian onlooker would notice either" With that, she dragged the convict out of the car. The look on his face was priceless! With a fluid practiced motion, she unzipped his jumpsuit and it fell to the floor. We could tell that he'd have collapsed to the floor too, if Nadia wasn't holding him by his hair.
His big pecker was shriveled to half its shower size and there was a lovely reddish bruise across the middle. And his balls... Wow! That was the best part. His big shaven nuts had been pulverized somehow. They were purple and getting darker by the second. Their texture and shape had gone from full, firm and round to something resembling crunchy peanut butter molded into a rough oval. I felt myself getting very wet. And I knew my semi-nightly ride on my landlord's face was going to be a little sweeter that night. And the cord on his nutsack would be pulled just a tiny bit tighter.
Looking around at the other rookies, I now knew what the tests had revealed we had in common. The smiles on their 5 faces were identical!! And, I knew somehow that they were as wet or wetter than me.
Nadia, however, was all business. " What is the American expression? Kick some ass? Well, that is what you are going to be trained to do. Starting now. With this one." She spun him around so his well-muscled ass faced us. "You each get two kicks. Left and right. Make them count!"
The con screamed excitingly as the first set of Academy honed legs drilled hard kicks into his pale white ass. I went last and couldn't help but notice that there were only 7 angry toe marks on his sorry ass. Some of the girls must have "accidentally" missed that large target and nailed a nut. That would explain the times were louder and higher pitched. I snapped a brutal kick at an unmarked section of his ass and felt it follow through to the bone. Then I kicked even harder up and between his legs and hit paydirt. It felt like kicking a marshmallow until his nut reached his hard belly.
We all laughed giddily and exchanged high-fives when Nadia let him collapse to the cement floor. The giggling stopped when Nadia began to speak again. Her tone was NOT happy.
"Well, well. You're all very full of yourselves. You THINK you know how to hurt a man. You think you can bust balls with your hard, hard kicks. Well, you CAN all kick decently. Some of you could break a ball. Just barely, though. But anyone within a city block would have heard and seen you what you did to this worm. And I can't have that. Three weeks from now, you will be able to crush balls in a variety of ways and with far more force. And you'll be able to so in a crowded room without anyone but the perp knowing that you've ended his balls."
With that, our training really began. It was the hardest and most satisfying training any girl could undergo.
The three weeks of training flew by. I'd never been faster or fitter. We were all very eager to take what we'd learned to the streets. Sure, we damaged many pairs of balls from the pool of convicts at the
Cindy Boyer, a big (5'11" 165 pound) lesbian and I were assigned Vice detail that first week. In the back of my mind, I had the feeling that Nadia had selected her to be my partner partly to protect me because of my size. That made me mad and determined to take my anger out on some testicles. I may only weigh 108 pounds, but I can punish men as well as anyone!!
Our mission was simple. Punish relatively petty criminals on the street and leave the jails for more serious vermin. Our first bust was a middle-aged married "John" who had invited a "typical" mini-skirted whore into his car near Grant Park. We pulled them over and ordered the whore to stay in the car.
The man was polite and ashamed, so I was merciful. Just a quick punch to the solar plexus so he wouldn't have the air to scream before I threw him onto the hood of the car. I frisked him, felt his erection and yanked it down hard. The small crowd on the sidewalk hadn't seen that. Nor did they catch the three lightning quick knees I gave him. The first smashed the head of his cock nicely against the hard metal. The second and third found and bruised his balls. "We're going to give you a break and let you go, Sir", I said loudly. "And if I see you again, I'm going to stomp your balls into applesauce", I added in a sexy whisper only he could hear. He limped to his car and drove off slowly. I think he got the message but the whore still had to be dealt with.
"What's your name, Scuzzball?" Cindy asked. The whore said it was Vicky. "What name were you BORN with, Vicky", Cindy asked with less patience. When the stupid whore insisted that was her real name, Cindy signaled for a # 7.
I launched my steel-toed shoe from the shadows while Cindy turned to block the crowd's view and adjusted her belt. WHAM. Our practiced maneuver worked perfectly, pinning "Vicky's" balls between the rounded tip of my left shoe and Cindy's holstered Glock 9mm. I felt one ball flatten nicely. Cindy ordered the crowd to disperse while reaching around to inspect the perp's damage. Her large hand probed and poked while she described how it felt in a soft voice only I could hear. It was a nice moment to share when she described finding his unkicked left nut and then slowly but surely squeezing the pulp out of it. I could almost feel the "pop" with her and that cemented us as partners. We went through the motions of arresting Vicky and putting "her" in the patrol car. But, of course, we booted her/him out a few blocks away and advised her to "tell some friends" about us.
Not surprisingly, street prostitution all but vanished in our area within a few days and after punishing a few dozen pairs of balls. Cindy and I grew close as Sisters and enjoyed discussing the damage we'd inflicted. We were pretty sure we'd only permanently ruined 4 or 6 balls but didn't really care one way or the other. Except this one young pimp called Raul. He NEEDED virtual castration and it was great fun and exercise delivering it to him. He made the mistake of making us run!
He could really move for a drug addict and we couldn't get close enough to tackle him. Shooting his balls off was not a viable an option. So, we just ran and ran hoping to out endure the speedy little bastard. Till we came to a 12 foot wire fence. Now he was OURS. But damned if he didn't start scurrying up that fence as fast as a monkey.
Of course, monkeys are NOT very smart. By the time he got to the top, I had walked through the WIDE OPEN gate and was waiting for him on the other side. Gun drawn and laughing at him. He climbed slowly down my side of the fence to face what he thought would be yet another arrest. But when his feet were about 6 feet from the ground, Cindy cleverly yanked his pants legs and cuffed his skinny ankles together through the fence. Now he was suspended upside down with his back to the fence and his evil little head about 10 inches from the ground. It was hysterical.
I reached up and undid his pants, of course. After a few minutes, I had the elestrator attached properly to his ripe young balls. (Elestrators are standard-issue equipment in our unit) Our shift was over and so we were just going to phone off and watch the sunset and Raul's balls die. But then, I went a little nuts. I suddenly wanted my ass worshipped very badly.
I slipped of my slacks and panties and positioned my anus over his mouth. I grabbed his hair and yanked up while I sat gently down. His pained moan and the stretching sound his neck made were nirvana. His obedient little tongue began darting about at my instruction. It was nice.
I am not THAT way. And Cindy KNOWS I'm not that way. But... I somehow couldn't object when her long strong fingers began unbuttoning my uniform blouse and unhooking my bra front. I began to finger my clit. When Cindy reached up and took the pimp's balls and began to describe how they were growing colder, I lost all inhibitions. Her knowing hands on my breasts felt wonderful. It was like electricity was running from his dying balls into my hardening nipples and Cindy was the conduit. Her whispered description of my strong heartbeat and the fading pulse when felt in his nut sack made me moan in ecstasy. Somehow, I could actually FEEL it when Cindy described cranking the elestrator tighter and tighter. Somehow, although my eyes were closed, I could actually SEE his miserable manmeat grow darker and darker.
Cindy claims I began to cum just as his balls died in her hands. But she's a bullshitter sometimes.