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Description

Roughly a year ago, Clarice Starling had suffered quite the embarrassment at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Immediately following her first encounter with Hannibal Lecter, the intrepid special agent made the mistake of glancing into one of the many cells lining his particular block.

It took Clarice a moment to understand what she was seeing, gasping and blushing at the sight of the inmate's straining erection. Before she could do anything, his throbbing penis erupted from about a foot and a half away. The thick cumshot passed right between the bars and took Agent Starling full in the face.

She closed her mouth just a fraction of a second too late, catching a salty rope of jizz with her tongue. "Mmmmnnghh!" Clarice groaned, gagging and accidentally swallowing the stranger's sperm as she reached up to deal with what felt like half a pint of semen on her face.

Clarice sprinted for the bathroom, smearing the milky ejaculate on her forehead and cheeks as she passed several laughing guards and orderlies. By the time she reached the women's restroom and took a deep breath before looking in the mirror, some more of the spunk had dribbled down to her lips. As she inhaled, Starling ended up with another mouthful of cum.

This time, she violently spat the gooey white substance into the sink and started washing her face without looking. Clarice wasn't sure she could bear the humiliation of seeing herself with a facial. It was only then that she noticed...beneath her slacks, her panties were soaked.

She only ducked into one of the toilet stalls to check on her underwear. Clarice was even wearing a pad in her pink briefs, but her arousal gushed right through it and nearly stained her pants. It felt so very wrong, but Ms. Starling couldn't help herself. She masturbated right there on the toilet seat, thinking of being subjected to another messy cum facial in front of the entire hospital.

Clarice rubbed her erect nipples, recalling the incident while squirming in the bath. She fondled her breasts with one hand and gave her clit attention below the water with the other. Orgasm came as it always did, just as hard as that day at the asylum.

Regrettably, duty called. Agent Starling climbed out of the bathtub and messed with her wet hair, still tingling in her loins. She dried off and slipped into her white panties and a bathrobe, returning to her bed and the mess of paperwork strewn about the sheets. Four months on the trail of this cop-killing bastard, and no leads in three. Has it gone cold?

"They're calling him the Sodomite." Crawford had told her, rolling his eyes. The thoughts came unbidden as she looked over the files on Jack's desk. She felt her panties dampen. "So...I'm bait?" Clarice mumbled, trying to ignore her swollen cunt. Each and every woman even peripherally involved in these investigations ended up anally raped and murdered. "It's not my call. But if anyone can handle him, it's you."

Three of the women, all of which were young beat cops, had been caught alone in their own homes at night. Starling had been granted a contingent of agents to watch her house, but she had a feeling it wouldn't make any difference. There was something supernatural about this case. Nine kills in about half as many months, and not a trace? How did he know them? Who is he?

A knock at the door very nearly scared the shit out of Clarice, and so she darted out of her bedroom to check the front door's peephole. Just one of the guns. She opened the door all the way, and turned bright red. Her fellow fed went to speak, but all he managed was "Uh..." before averting his eyes. Ms. Starling had neglected to tie her bathrobe closed. Her stiff nipples were hidden, but her lady tighty whities were quite visible to the man on the porch and two of his squadmates.

Clarice cleared her throat and held her robe closed, frowning a bit. "What?" she grunted. He hesitated. "Nothing yet. You asked us to check in every couple hours." She blushed further, the flush spreading from her cheeks down to her bosom. "Oh...yeah. Sorry, guess I'm kinda losing it in here. Lemme get some clothes on, I'll see you in another two." she murmured, shutting the door.

Before she had a chance to get dressed, Clarice could sense something was wrong. Now, do it now. She pulled the kitchen knife from the pocket of her robe and dropped the garment, slinking from the foyer to the living room in nothing but her panties. Quietly, she tucked the knife between the cushions of the couch, leaving just a little bit of the handle visible. Clarice scolded herself. This is stupid. But...I need this...

Her instincts never lied, so she went about pretending she had no idea the killer was in the house. Slowly, she started wandering back to her bedroom while playing with her messy hair. The act must have worked, because Clarice was immediately handgagged. She felt the erection grinding on the seat of her panties, and then the carbon fiber blade at her throat. "MMMMMMmmmphhh..." she moaned and squirmed. Clarice shook her head and played along, cumming her panties as she felt precum squirt across the small of her back.

"On your knees, and then turn around. Don't look at me." he ordered, and she nodded. She caught a glimpse of the guy, but it was as if she couldn't see into his hood. Her heart pounded and the anxiety took her, but there would definitely be a wet mark on the carpet. Her panties were dripping, the torrent from her excited womanhood gushing endlessly. Rather than fuck her mouth, the rapist held her by the hair with one hand and simply jerked off in her face with the other.

His foreskin fapped back and forth across the fat cockhead and he forced her up close to it, resting his glans between her nose and upper lip. Clarice groaned and fidgeted in his grasp on her hair, forced to take in the stench of his dick. In no time at all, he recoiled slightly and squirted his hot load right in her face. Her mouth still open in the middle of moaning, Clarice managed to catch about half of it on her tongue. Yet another orgasm wracked her body as she savored the degradation, blissful over the cum dripping from her nose and chin to decorate her naked breasts.

Oblivious to Clarice's pleasure, the Sodomite dragged the wriggling woman back down the hall to the living room. She was bent over the arm of the sofa to have her panties tugged to her knees, and she positioned her hand between the cushions. Clarice waited patiently, feeling her attacker summon up another boner by grinding on her bare butt. The moment he started to penetrate her tight, puckered anus...she decided to strike.

With a firm grip on the hilt of the butcher knife, she spun around and slashed at his throat in one smooth motion. A stream of crimson burst forth as her rapist convulsed madly, choking and writhing in some wild gesticulations. Clarice ripped the pantyhose from his face before he fell to the ground. He was just a man.

Orgasm took her again.

Description

Roughly a year ago, Clarice Starling had suffered quite the embarrassment at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Immediately following her first encounter with Hannibal Lecter, the intrepid special agent made the mistake of glancing into one of the many cells lining his particular block.

It took Clarice a moment to understand what she was seeing, gasping and blushing at the sight of the inmate's straining erection. Before she could do anything, his throbbing penis erupted from about a foot and a half away. The thick cumshot passed right between the bars and took Agent Starling full in the face.

She closed her mouth just a fraction of a second too late, catching a salty rope of jizz with her tongue. "Mmmmnnghh!" Clarice groaned, gagging and accidentally swallowing the stranger's sperm as she reached up to deal with what felt like half a pint of semen on her face.

Clarice sprinted for the bathroom, smearing the milky ejaculate on her forehead and cheeks as she passed several laughing guards and orderlies. By the time she reached the women's restroom and took a deep breath before looking in the mirror, some more of the spunk had dribbled down to her lips. As she inhaled, Starling ended up with another mouthful of cum.

This time, she violently spat the gooey white substance into the sink and started washing her face without looking. Clarice wasn't sure she could bear the humiliation of seeing herself with a facial. It was only then that she noticed...beneath her slacks, her panties were soaked.

She only ducked into one of the toilet stalls to check on her underwear. Clarice was even wearing a pad in her pink briefs, but her arousal gushed right through it and nearly stained her pants. It felt so very wrong, but Ms. Starling couldn't help herself. She masturbated right there on the toilet seat, thinking of being subjected to another messy cum facial in front of the entire hospital.

Clarice rubbed her erect nipples, recalling the incident while squirming in the bath. She fondled her breasts with one hand and gave her clit attention below the water with the other. Orgasm came as it always did, just as hard as that day at the asylum.

Regrettably, duty called. Agent Starling climbed out of the bathtub and messed with her wet hair, still tingling in her loins. She dried off and slipped into her white panties and a bathrobe, returning to her bed and the mess of paperwork strewn about the sheets. Four months on the trail of this cop-killing bastard, and no leads in three. Has it gone cold?

"They're calling him the Sodomite." Crawford had told her, rolling his eyes. The thoughts came unbidden as she looked over the files on Jack's desk. She felt her panties dampen. "So...I'm bait?" Clarice mumbled, trying to ignore her swollen cunt. Each and every woman even peripherally involved in these investigations ended up anally raped and murdered. "It's not my call. But if anyone can handle him, it's you."

Three of the women, all of which were young beat cops, had been caught alone in their own homes at night. Starling had been granted a contingent of agents to watch her house, but she had a feeling it wouldn't make any difference. There was something supernatural about this case. Nine kills in about half as many months, and not a trace? How did he know them? Who is he?

A knock at the door very nearly scared the shit out of Clarice, and so she darted out of her bedroom to check the front door's peephole. Just one of the guns. She opened the door all the way, and turned bright red. Her fellow fed went to speak, but all he managed was "Uh..." before averting his eyes. Ms. Starling had neglected to tie her bathrobe closed. Her stiff nipples were hidden, but her lady tighty whities were quite visible to the man on the porch and two of his squadmates.

Clarice cleared her throat and held her robe closed, frowning a bit. "What?" she grunted. He hesitated. "Nothing yet. You asked us to check in every couple hours." She blushed further, the flush spreading from her cheeks down to her bosom. "Oh...yeah. Sorry, guess I'm kinda losing it in here. Lemme get some clothes on, I'll see you in another two." she murmured, shutting the door.

Before she had a chance to get dressed, Clarice could sense something was wrong. Now, do it now. She pulled the kitchen knife from the pocket of her robe and dropped the garment, slinking from the foyer to the living room in nothing but her panties. Quietly, she tucked the knife between the cushions of the couch, leaving just a little bit of the handle visible. Clarice scolded herself. This is stupid. But...I need this...

Her instincts never lied, so she went about pretending she had no idea the killer was in the house. Slowly, she started wandering back to her bedroom while playing with her messy hair. The act must have worked, because Clarice was immediately handgagged. She felt the erection grinding on the seat of her panties, and then the carbon fiber blade at her throat. "MMMMMMmmmphhh..." she moaned and squirmed. Clarice shook her head and played along, cumming her panties as she felt precum squirt across the small of her back.

"On your knees, and then turn around. Don't look at me." he ordered, and she nodded. She caught a glimpse of the guy, but it was as if she couldn't see into his hood. Her heart pounded and the anxiety took her, but there would definitely be a wet mark on the carpet. Her panties were dripping, the torrent from her excited womanhood gushing endlessly. Rather than fuck her mouth, the rapist held her by the hair with one hand and simply jerked off in her face with the other.

His foreskin fapped back and forth across the fat cockhead and he forced her up close to it, resting his glans between her nose and upper lip. Clarice groaned and fidgeted in his grasp on her hair, forced to take in the stench of his dick. In no time at all, he recoiled slightly and squirted his hot load right in her face. Her mouth still open in the middle of moaning, Clarice managed to catch about half of it on her tongue. Yet another orgasm wracked her body as she savored the degradation, blissful over the cum dripping from her nose and chin to decorate her naked breasts.

Oblivious to Clarice's pleasure, the Sodomite dragged the wriggling woman back down the hall to the living room. She was bent over the arm of the sofa to have her panties tugged to her knees, and she positioned her hand between the cushions. Clarice waited patiently, feeling her attacker summon up another boner by grinding on her bare butt. The moment he started to penetrate her tight, puckered anus...she decided to strike.

With a firm grip on the hilt of the butcher knife, she spun around and slashed at his throat in one smooth motion. A stream of crimson burst forth as her rapist convulsed madly, choking and writhing in some wild gesticulations. Clarice ripped the pantyhose from his face before he fell to the ground. He was just a man.

Orgasm took her again.