Mistrials & Tribulations

Tina, the DA, is going after a Russian boss whose case can’t reach a verdict. He pays Izzie to grab her, keep her quiet, until the whole thing collapses into mistrial. Izzie snatches the blonde, blonde hair swinging as she slams her into a chair, wrists cinched in rope, ankles lashed tight. The prosecutor’s first shock soon melts into something else—heat, breath quickening, thighs pressing together under that prim skirt. Izzie spots it, grins, a dark beard shadowing her jaw as she steps in close. She peels off Tina’s blouse, palms her breasts, tugs hard on stiff nipples until the DA gasps and strains against the ropes. Izzie likes what she sees. Likes it enough to shove Tina’s legs apart, bury her mouth between them, tongue working until the captive comes with a broken cry. Control, though, is a drug for Tina too. Hours later the prosecutor has Izzie face-down, ropes biting into her wrists, blonde hair spilling over her captive’s shoulders while she rides her mouth and fingers her open. Then the door crashes wide. Izzie’s partner steps through, takes one look, and gets to work. Fresh rope loops around both women, binding them chest-to-chest, thighs locked, Izzie’s beard rasping Tina’s throat while their bound hands twitch uselessly between them. Two captives now, one shared secret, and a Russian’s deadline still ticking.