As soon as Detective Coleman entered the interrogation room, she locked eyes with the male suspect seated across from her. He was trembling in fear; he knew she had a reputation for being ruthless when it came to obtaining confessions. She walked over to him, her hips swaying sensually, and pulled out a photo album from her briefcase.
"I think these pictures will help jog your memory," she said, flipping through pages of gruesome crime scene photos. Each one made his stomach turn, but he forced himself to bear witness as she paused at one particular image: a close-up of a bloody handprint left behind at a recent murder scene.
"Do you recognize these bars?" she asked, pointing to a metal grate in the background. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"Yeah, that's the bar where I was last night," he said, feeling his heart race. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Detective Coleman leaned in close, her breath hot on his ear. "I think it has everything to do with why you're here today," she said with a sinister grin. "Now, let's see if you're ready to earn those toilet rights."
Without warning, she stood up and turned around, revealing her bare ass to him. "Fifty crimes against women," she said softly, "and you still think you deserve to breathe the same air as us? Show me how determined you are."
The suspect gulped, his eyes fixed on her juicy butt cheeks. He could see the outline of her asshole, pulsing rhythmically. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his face into her butt crack. He took a deep breath, letting the scent of her ass fill his lungs. It was both repulsive and exhilarating at the same time.
Detective Coleman let out a moan, her body shuddering in pleasure as she felt his hot breath against her skin. She continued to interrogate him, asking question after question while he focused all his energy on worshipping her asshole.
"Suck it," she ordered, and he did as he was told, lapping at her skin like a hungry dog. "That's right, baby. Show me how much you love taking my shit."
She began to grind her hips against the back of his head, forcing his face deeper into her asshole. He could feel her warm piss dripping down his throat, mingling with his saliva.
"You're such a good little toilet," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now it's time for your reward."
Without warning, she grabbed his hair and pulled him away from her ass. He gasped for air, gagging on the thick load of shit she'd just deposited into his mouth. She stepped back to admire her handiwork, her face flushed with excitement.
"Swallow it," she commanded. The suspect hesitated for a moment before obediently opening his mouth and swallowing her cum-filled load of shit. "That's what I like to hear," she purred, stroking his hair affectionately. "Now tell me, where's the rest of them?"
The suspect closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them again, he was surprised to see Detective Coleman had already moved on to another case file. She was leaning over another suspect, her asshole still glistening with the remnants of his confession.
"Detective," he stammered, "what about my rights? I don't even know your real name!"
She turned around, her eyes dark and predatory. "My name is Tempest," she said with a smirk, "and as for your rights... well, let's just say they'll always come second to mine." She flexed her toned butt, sending an electric thrill coursing through the room. "And now it's time for you to earn yours."
