Halima's First and Last Riot (police girl, hanging)
A pretty young police girl gets roped into riot duty, and then roped up in a different way.
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Halima's First and Last Riot
Halima smacked her police baton into her left palm to calm her shaky hands. Her belly was trembling with nervous butterflies, excitement and fear together charging her up.
In front of the line of police, protesters were shouting angrily. Halima didn’t really care what they were saying.
She fixated on one in particular, a slender blonde woman of perhaps forty. The woman was beside herself with rage, almost crying as she joined whatever they were chanting about.
Tension filled the air.
It was Halima’s first riot, and it was frightening and tremendously exciting.
She licked her lips.
There was a loud clack as a bottle of cider bounced off the helmet of the officer next to her, and Halima took her opportunity.
Raising her baton, she rushed forward with a shout. She saw surprise and fear in the eyes of the blonde, then she cracked down hard, the tough plastic smashing into the woman’s cheekbone and sending her reeling back with a spray of blood.
Chaos erupted. Police officers were grabbing rioters and thrusting them through the police line to be shoved to the ground and handcuffed. Bottles and stones flew, and the shouting had turned from slogans into savage snarls of combat.
Halima felt a hot surge of almost sexual desire flood her abdomen. She drew her lips back in a warlike grimace and reached down to grab the semi-conscious blonde.
Hands gripped her arm and jerked her forward, and she yelped as she was drawn into the crowd of rioters. She heard a shout of alarm from her fellow officers.
They’re going to come get me, Halima thought, and swung left and right with her baton, trying to create space. Stumbling forward, lost in the confusion, she didn’t realize she was pushing farther away from the safety of the police line.
A fist slammed into her body, but her riot gear absorbed most of the force. She retaliated, slashing her baton fiercely across the man’s face, but he advanced on her implacably.
“Fucking cop bitch,” he growled.
Then he had her by the arm, and he plucked her baton free with no more effort than a man taking a lollipop from a child.
Halima stared up at him, the fear and heat that filled her spiraling together in a way her frantic brain couldn’t parse out.
He twisted her around and pushed her down to her knees, tearing at her helmet, and she heard the snap of the chin strap giving way, gashing her chin as it broke.
Then her hair was flying around her face, the noise of the crowd battering at her uncovered ears. She grabbed for her taser but he slapped her in the face hard, twice, the blows making her head ring.
She was trying to get her bearings, to figure out which direction the other cops were, when he put the noose around her neck.
Halima saw the thin line of the rope cross her line of sight, and by the time she’d fully realized what was happening she felt the cord tightening against her skin.
“No, please!” she screamed, and he jerked the noose hard, dragging her backwards with him, scraping her butt across the pavement as he walked.
The policewoman writhed, clawing at her neck, trying to get her fingers underneath the noose, to speak, to plead with him not to do this.
He stood over her, holding her up on her knees by the rope, as her eyes bulged with panicked effort. Halima didn’t see him toss the end of the rope up over a streetlamp. Holding the end of the rope, he let go of her, and she sagged forward, drawing a ragged breath as the noose loosened slightly.
Then he took the rope-end in both hands and pulled, hand over hand. The tiny moment of relief vanished as he hoisted Halima, kicking and gurgling, into the air.
She hung there suspended, in her black riot gear, her face dark with blood. Tears sprang into her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she spun from the force of her struggling.
Halima caught a glimpse of the other cops pushing into the angry crowd, then a half-spin and she was looking down into the eyes of the man who was murdering her.
Choking, she tried to beg for her life, but he just stared at her, an animal need for revenge turning his face into a mask.
Her legs couldn’t kick anymore, they just twisted, her feet drawing up towards her ass and then relaxing. Her arms twitched, her hips popping randomly. There was a roaring sound in her ears and a crazed energy filling her fit young body.
I’m gonna die here.
Halima’s hands fell away from her neck. Her dark eyes were locked on her murderer.
He’s killing me. He’s holding me up here and he’s killing me.
A drop of saliva fell from the tip of her tongue, dark purple from the strangulation and poking out from her lips.
A horrid rattling sound came from her mouth, and as Halima’s vision darkened a sensation very similar to an orgasm shot through her body, drawing one last spasm of motion from the dying woman.
Then there was blackness, and silence, and a pretty police girl corpse dangling from a noose in a riotous street.
Posted Aug 10, 2024, 1:32 PM UTC