Note: this story is an extension of and a sequel to an original creation by the inimitable Mara’s Mischief in a universe focused on rather sexy crime syndicates. You can find more information about her in the notes section at the end of this story.

As he sat at the bar, his back aching and the din of rowdy twenty-somethings filling the room, Detective Cooper was more aware than ever that he was far too old for this shit. When the number of spirits the names of which he did not know on the top shelf outnumbered those that he did, he decided, then he was past the age that he could justifiably sit in a club at one in the morning surrounded by kids so young most of them would collapse at the sight of a whiskey.

More to the point, he was too old to be working cases that he alone seemed to care about. He remembered the days when the peak of organised crime in his city was a pair of vandals banding together to throw bricks through shop store fronts. Taking a burning gulp of his whiskey, he wished forlornly that one day those days might return. As it was, he no longer recognised his city, not really. Yuri’s Russians roaming the streets with barely concealed assault rifles, the Yakuza shifting in the shadows like serpents waiting for their moment to strike, the cartels working through corrupt dock workers like they were aiming for some kind of high score. And now the brothels opening up with barely an effort at a legal guise, the prostitutes prowling the dark alleyways each night. And the disappearances. Known drug runners, identified associates of the cartels, dirty businessmen, even rookie cops. Cooper had been in the game long enough to spot the warning signs: something was brewing. The cartels were getting restless, eager to avenge their missing, and if his sources were to be believed the Russians and the Yakuza were on uncommonly friendly terms.

Ever since that Collin kid had turned up beaten to a pulp, things had been going steadily south. Cooper couldn’t shake the idea that somehow his father’s disappearance was connected with all this: he had gone to meet Yuri with nothing less than fifty thousand to pay of his son’s debts and, by all accounts, never left. A week later Yuri was confirmed to have a new lady friend on his arm, and he sharply became invested in prostitution. Well, more than he already was. Meanwhile, the Yakuza also entered the same market and yet, miraculously, there had been no direct confrontations between the two gangs since.

He couldn’t help feeling they were connected. Perhaps Collin’s father had offered Yuri a little more than just the cash: his new lady friend had never even been seen before, so what if he had somehow hired her? Bought her, maybe? The internet was a fucked up place these days, and he had sure seemed desperate to see his son delivered from Yuri’s wrath. It still didn’t explain Yuri’s newfound friendliness with the Yakuza, but Cooper knew there was something sinister behind it.

All his digging had bought him here. The new Club Grekh: literally, Club Sin. It had opened barely a week before and Cooper was as positive as he could possibly be that it was Yuri’s doing; the door staff consisted entirely of his known affiliates, the funds to run it were largely donated by numerous Russian bank accounts, at least five of which were directly linked to Yuri’s known aliases, and it was deep in the Russian’s territory.

If his initial suspicions hadn’t led him to the club, the contact who had sought him out a few days ago would have. No name, no personal information, no way for him to identify them, just intel that only an inside man could know. In return for anonymity and eventual protection, the informant had led the Detective directly to the club and assured him that Yuri’s new enterprise was more than just a simple club. The only detail he had on the informant was the way they invariably signed their communications: M x. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have trusted such a shady source, but the quality of the information they provided him, and the fact that if Yuri wished to see him he would have simply sent over a group of armed thugs rather than play cat and mouse with the Detective, he had placed a hesitant trust in them.

Detective Cooper had already been all but convinced that the majority of his precinct were in the pocket of either the Russians, the Yakuza, the cartels or some combination of the three, but when he had presented his superiors with the almost overwhelming evidence that both Yuri and the Yakuza were moving into the sex trade, their utter indifference had assured his suspicions. Now he was undercover, waiting, watching. With enough evidence, he would go to the feds. They could assure his own safety, as well as that of his informant, and at this point he was willing to burn the city down around him to rid it of the rats that had infested it so completely. It was better than leaving them to devour it piece by piece.

The woman approached him imperiously, a confidence in her stride that momentarily threw him off guard. He had made no effort to communicate with anybody besides the door staff or the barman, and his years of experience had taught him to blend in as best he could with the crowd. He certainly had not expected anybody to approach him. Regardless, she was unmistakeable. Wherever Yuri went, she would follow, and though he never had been able to find a name, the woman had been inseparable from the man for the past six months and Detective Cooper knew well enough who she was.

‘Hey there, mister. You seem awful lonely tonight.’

Detective Cooper had been in the game long enough to know when he was being played. Ignoring her, he glanced around the room. The five thugs were arranged around to block off all possible escapes. To the untrained eyes they looked just like security staff, but their constant glances toward him, the bulges at their ankles and hips, and the matching tattoos on all of their wrists was enough to inform Detective Cooper that they were there for him and him alone.

‘Want to dance with me, big boy?’ cooed the girl. She was petite, beautiful, and dressed in a crop top and skirt that ensured her outfit was more skin than cloth. Her smile was disarming, but he had little time for small talk.

‘I’m assuming there will be no need for me to book a cab tonight. Saves me a little cash I suppose.’ Finishing his whiskey he turned to her. ‘So tell me, will Yuri be beating me personally, or do even the real criminals no longer respect a seasoned cop?’

The girl smirked and took a step closer. ‘Oh no, Mr. Yuri-Bear just wants a little talk, that’s all.’ She was practically on his lap now. He could smell the sweet aroma of some expensive perfume, could feel the heat radiating from her. She bit her lip, pushed forward her chest. There was something about her, an aura of lust and desire. He felt a part of him yearn for her briefly before quickly snuffing it out: he knew better than to lay even a finger on a gangster’s girl. She seemed taken aback at his lack of receptiveness to her charms. Her shock was soon overwhelmed by a cunning smile. When she spoke, the sing-song tone was gone and there was an intelligent edge to her voice. ‘You know, most men can barely keep their hands off me. I am made for sex, Detective. I can entice even the most stubborn men to my will. But not you.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, missy. Now I’m not much for chit-chat, so if you’re going to take me to the bastard, just take me. I’m assuming he is in the building, so lead on.’

Her eyes narrowed and her smile widened. ‘Yes, you’ll do nicely,’ she said. ‘Yuri told me you were good, but I never thought we’d get so lucky. If that’s how you want it, follow me.’ She pressed herself against him then, her hand sinking to his waist. He felt his groin tingle, but again ignored it. She pulled away having relieved his pistol from its holster at his hip before slinking off through the crowd.

He watched as the thugs followed them around the edges of the room before converging on them as they reached a locked door. As soon as he had entered the club, the Detective had clocked it: flanked by two guards who would allow to pass only a handful of girls and the men they had caught on their lines. The door was swung open, rough hands shoved him through, and he heard it slam again behind them.

They stood at the base of a poorly lit staircase. At the top a yellow neon sign was framed by a red light that trickled down over the steps like blood from a wound. Marched up it with the girl’s ass swaying in front of him, he took stock of the area. Either the walls were incredibly thick or there was a healthy amount of soundproofing to them, for the throb of the club’s music was barely audible, replaced by the sound of hedonistic moans and primal howls of lust. It smelled of sweat and smoke, and the Detective vaguely realised he was overdue a cigarette. To be honest, if he was going to die – which there was every chance he was – he would have far preferred a thick cigar, but anything was better than nothing.

Cresting the stairs they delved into a maze of corridors illuminated only by candles mounted in little alcoves on the wall and discarded glow bracelets scattered across the padded floor. For the most part the doors along the corridors were locked, but on occasion they would pass an open one: beautiful women could be seen relentlessly fucking drunken men in the dim light, their features contorted with a mixture of passion and sinister satisfaction.

At length they came to a door at the end of a corridor. The thugs remained outside, flanking the door, while the girl led Detective Cooper inside. Politely, the Detective closed the door behind him and turned to face the infamous Russian sat in the plush armchair in the centre of the room.

Detective Cooper had waited a long time to meet Yuri face-to-face, and his heart thudded unsteadily as he realised the gravity of his situation: Yuri wasn’t likely to let him out of the building alive. Still, he fought to stop his lip curling in disgust. He had spent years trying to bring this man down, dedicated the better part of ten years to it. The man was a murderer, an arsonist, a drug trafficker and now a dealer in prostitution. Describing him as kingpin was nothing if not an understatement. Yet now they were in the same room, the Russian smiled at him like an old friend.

‘Ah, Detective, welcome. Please, take seat.’ He gestured to another armchair opposite him, which the Detective dropped into stiffly. The opulence of the room – all leather furniture, rich carpets and marble decorations, filled with a light smoke – was more than a little disorienting. Too the Detective, however, the fact that so heinous a man could reside in such luxury was infuriating and he fought to keep his emotions in check. The girl sat on the arm of Yuri’s chair, practically draping herself around his shoulders and stroking his hair with manicured fingers. He noticed that her childish, giddy attitude had returned, and only lifted when she glanced at him without Yuri seeing. When she did so, there was something scheming in her eyes, an unnerving smile plucking at her lips.

Clearing his throat, the Detective held Yuri’s hard stare. ‘I like to think experience has made me a man of stealth. Perhaps my age betrays me in a room full of drunken teenagers, but might I ask what gave me away?’

Yuri reached over to a table beside his chair and poured out two glasses of whiskey as he spoke. ‘Nothing at all, Detective. If my guys not know to look for you, you would still be at bar. Lucky for me, my Megan here, she have good eye. She see you and she tell me. Tell me, what you come here for?’

The Detective smiled wryly. ‘Can a man not even sample the city nightlife these days?’

Yuri laughed. ‘A man, yes. A detective, no. We both know you not here for the drink. But since we talk about it, have one.’ Leaning over, he handed the Detective one of the glasses. Awkwardly, he took it, eyeing it warily. Yuri laughed again. ‘If I wanted to kill you, rodnoy brat, I just shoot you.’ As if to illustrate his point, he took a deep swallow of his own whiskey. Not particularly reassured, the Detective took a sip, unwilling to enrage the Russian.

‘You already know why I’m here, Yuri, there is nothing for you to learn in me telling you.’

‘I suppose not. I think you must be desperate to come alone.’

Another wry smile. ‘Yeah, well, maybe I am. But then reinforcements weren’t particularly forthcoming. Just for my own self-interest, how many of my precinct are in your pocket?’

Yuri put on a theatrical frown and scratched his chin deliberately. ‘Well, let me see.’ He made a show of counting up. Eventually he shrugged. ‘I lose count, Detective. I think half, at least.’

The Detective nodded. ‘As I thought. Glad to know I haven’t lost it in the years I’ve been gunning to rid my city of your kind.’ He took another gulp of the whiskey and it burned as it went down. Megan caught his eye then, her eyes flashing with amusement. He fought a sudden urge to giggle, stifling it with another drink of whiskey. ‘Now I know I have kept my edge, I would appreciate it if we could get this over with.’

Yuri frowned. ‘What you mean, Detective?’

The Detective sighed. ‘Listen, I’ve had just shy of thirty years on the force. Joined as a wet-nosed rookie and was rather hoping I might live to see the city back how it used to be. Heck, even wanted to play a hand in getting her there. I got in too deep though; I got too close to your operation. I was cuffing crooks like you before you could spell, son. Do me a favour and don’t treat me like a moron. I know I ain’t walking out of here alive, and I ain’t about to beg for mercy neither. Shoot me, stab me, throw me off the goddamn roof for all I care. Just spare me the will-he, won’t-he shtick and get it over with.’ As if to punctuate the finality of his words, he finished off the whiskey, slammed it down on the table and rose to his feet.

Yuri smiled as though he had just won the lottery. Megan smiled as though she had just done something awful and gotten away with it. ‘I not kill you, Detective. I respect you too much, rodnoy brat. Besides, it be waste of perfectly good shirt.’

Detective Cooper’s head suddenly felt strangely distant, and the urge to giggle returned, this time overwhelming. Unable to ward it off completely, he sniggered. Something seemed to be tickling him under his skin.

‘Something funny, Detective?’

‘No, not at all,’ he said as firmly as he was able. ‘So you mean to tell me you are going to let me just walk out of here? No tricks?’

A devilish grin spread across Yuri’s face and he pressed his fingers together. ‘Well now, I didn’t say that, Detective. Remind me of your name again?’

‘Desmond,’ the Detective giggled, staggering a little and forced to steady himself by clutching the back of the chair. Everything seemed so funny all of a sudden. He giggled again and the tickling sensation spread, soon saturating his thick arms, his broad chest, his tree-trunk legs. It was under his skin, in his bones, inside his muscles. Every hair on his body stood on end and shivers zipped up and down his spine. Looking up to say something, only girlish laughter emerged as he realised that the room seemed to be getting bigger. Yuri and Megan too. It was hilariously disorienting, like looking into one of those distorted mirrors he had seen in carnival funhouses.

‘You’re not wrong, Detective,’ said Yuri, and the Detective felt his insides squirm. Yuri’s voice sounded so deep and manly. So sexy. ‘You did get too close. Sooner or later I would have caught you, rodnoy brat. Never thought you come here though. But I haven’t had a black bitch before. I respect you, so you can be my first. You have to forgive the time it took to take effect. Normally, I get people to snort it, but I didn’t want to put you through that. Drinking takes a bit longer to affect. Drug was already in glass when I poured whiskey, you see. Not matter now though, you changing is all that matters.’

The Detective tried to focus on Yuri’s words, but the unexpected giddiness that overwhelmed him made it difficult. Soon his clothes were several sizes too big, draped on a smaller frame like a father’s clothes on his child, and his shoes were cavernous. Absently he felt the urge to rub his tingling skin and began to urgently tear his large clothes off. In doing so he revealed two large breasts and he squealed in delight. Quickly naked he moaned as he ran soft hands over luscious curves, a plump ass, thick thighs. The warm, smooth feel of her fingers sweeping over hairless skin was impossibly erotic, sending her into a swirling daze. She closed her eyes and moaned, her hands exploring her new body – groping her breasts, squeezing her ass, toying with her new, wet pussy. ‘Oh God,’ she moaned, ‘oh God this is so hot. My tits are so fucking big, my ass is so juicy. I’m fucking dripping.’ Her attention was suddenly turned to Yuri. ‘I want to ride you now. Diamond wants you to fuck her mind, Yuri-bear.’

Yuri grinned. From beside his chair he produced a silk dress, some bejewelled earrings and a pair of black heels. ‘Yuri wants you to look the part, Diamond.’

Eagerly, the new woman donned the outfit, forcing her huge tits into the tight dress and relishing the deep cleavage it gave her. Bouncing her tits she giggled, loving the weight on her chest as she put the earrings in and slipped on the heels. Immediately she was all over Yuri, kissing his neck briefly before licking from his collarbone to the base of his ear and ending it with a slutty moan. She paused… she liked that idea. She was a slut. A horny fucking slut made only for sex.

‘You stay, Megan,’ Yuri said, indicating his chair which Megan promptly curled up in like a cat savouring the warmth of her master on the seat. Diamond caught Megan’s eye and they exchanged a look laced with unspoken understanding. Then Yuri was dragging her into a side room all concrete and metal and dominated by a white leather sofa.

Diamond stared at him, eating him up with her eyes. The fact that barely five minutes ago she had been an almost seven-foot black man no longer mattered: she needed Yuri’s body. She craved him in her holes, filling her up all night long. Biting her lip she tugged down her dress, letting her breasts pop out. Yuri’s eyes lit up and he growled with satisfaction as she took him by the neck and pulled him in to kiss them. His tongue felt like fire on her skin and her pussy dripped all the more as he sucked on her nipple. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced either as a man or a woman; with her body made specifically for sex, every touch was like an explosion of lust, every grunt a symphony of passion… she could only imagine what a climax would feel like.

Roughly, his hand pulled up her dress and he groped her ass. The feel of her ass bulging between his fingers rolled her eyes back in her skull and she grabbed at his dick through his jeans, caressing his rapidly hardening length. Grabbing his head in both hands she pulled him to her face and kissed him passionately, her tongue exploring the depths of his mouth. She moaned like a whore in his mouth, grinding her quivering pussy against the leg of his jeans.

Unable to control herself, she tossed Yuri onto the sofa and tore at his jeans. The sight of his semi popping free cast the last thoughts of the silly Detective aside and she was only Yuri’s slutty Diamond. In one swift movement she was on her knees and had engulfed his entire dick in her salivating mouth. It was thick and meaty in her mouth, hot too. An experience she didn’t know she had overwhelmed her and she practically inhaled his dick, her slutty lips working around the shaft as she bobbed up and down energetically. Her tongue slipped out to lick the base of his shaft and tease his balls, and she the room was filled with the sound of wet gagging sounds as his dick slipped down her throat.

Gradually, Yuri began to thrust and Diamond moaned all the louder. She loved the feel of his dick pressing against the walls of her throat; she loved his hand in her hair, forcing himself deeper; she loved his assertiveness, his firm grip and unyielding strength. More than anything though, she loved his dick. It felt like her missing piece and as it slammed against the back of her throat she had never felt more satisfied.

Opening wider she took him by the hips and pulled her mouth down as deep as she could go. Licking at his balls, her eyes watered as his dick continued to harden inside her throat and his hot length all but choked her. His moans picked up speed as she gorged herself, and all at once he came, pouring his seed down her throat. She swallowed hungrily, slurping up every last drop before licking him clean. His seed was hot, delicious. She craved more. Her whole body seemed to shake with a need for his cock in every hole, his cum decorating her dark skin.

Yuri had expected her to ride him then. After all, Megan was always desperate to have him inside her once she had tasted his load. But the horny black bitch surprised him by leaping up onto the sofa and straddling his face. Her hand entangled itself in his hair and she met his eyes.

‘Yuri like Diamond,’ he grinned, ‘Diamond is horny whore.’

She grinned back. ‘Say that in Russian.’

‘You are rogovoy shlyukha.’

‘Mmm, fuck, you’re fucking hot when you speak Russian.’ Sinking her pussy onto his face she gasped, lights popping in her eyes as his thick tongue worked her dripping pussy lips. She ground on his mouth, moaning like a bitch in heat. His tongue was so hot and thick. It felt like he was teasing her with the head of his dick, but it was a hundred times more agile. It flicked from side to side, drawing shocked gasps from her perfect lips, and the more she moaned, the wetter she became. The wetter she became, the more sensitive she was. The more sensitive she was, the more she moaned.

Megan had never acted like this, but Yuri had no cause for complaint. The black bitch was more of a whore than he could have ever anticipated, and the knowledge that she had so recently been the Detective – the man who had stood the best chance of bringing down Yuri’s empire – made it all even hotter. More to the point, she knew who she had been, and she no longer cared. Yuri’s dick twitched and bucked as he licked desperately. She tasted so sweet and delicious, she smelled incredible, and her body… fuck. She was more a goddess than a slut. He had always imagined what it might be like to fuck with a black whore, but he had never expected the drug to turn the Detective into such a perfect specimen. Taking her by the hips he licked harder, faster, allowing himself a satisfied smile as she moaned.

‘Oh fuck, oh fuck,’ she cried, ‘fuck, I’m going to cum. Please, Yuri… please… more… make me cum for you… oh fuck.’ Obliging, he licked her as hard and fast as he was able, one hand reaching up to tweak her nipples. She bucked and writhed on top of him before howling with release, trembling as she came.

Diamond could barely comprehend the pleasure. Nothing could have prepared her for the tempest of orgasmic euphoria that crashed through her, cascading through her body and mind until she teetered on the brink of mania. Her new body, so perfectly designed for sex, was so many times more intense than any ordinary woman. Her eyes rolled back as she struggled to stay conscious and she fought to handle the waves of lust that swamped her. A scream had ripped from her lungs as she came and she stared at the ceiling with stars in her vision, panting breathlessly. It took her a moment to realise that Yuri had not stopped, teasing the lips of her pussy deliberately and sending her wild. She moaned and grunted and humped his face, before his hands were on her and he was lifting her up.

The intensity of her orgasm was still overwhelming, aftershocks of desire bursting through her every few seconds and she didn’t notice as Yuri positioned himself beneath her, lifted her so that she was lying on his chest. He growled something in Russian, something she barely heard and could not understand, yet somehow aroused her further. Yuri was incredible, his body, his strength, his dick. She was lost in her desire for him when he spread her pussy with his fingers and plunged his huge shaft inside her.

‘Fuck,’ she moaned, her eyes swinging up into her skull again. She threw out a hand for something to hold on to and gripped the white leather. ‘Fuck, Yuri-bear, you’re massive… I’m so full… I don’t know if I can take it… oh God, but I need it… fuck me Yuri-bear, I’m your plaything. I’ll do anything for you, just fuck me good.’ Yuri didn’t need a second invitation. Slamming his dick inside her over and over, he fucked her rougher than he had ever fucked anybody. He had always thought that fucking a girl so hard might break her, especially the white bitches. But this black slut was an addict, and the rougher he was the louder she screamed. She was so tight and wet, her pussy constricting around his dick as though it belonged to the smallest, whitest little virgin.

Diamond felt like she was some strange musical instrument and she was being played by a master musician. Every thrust felt like it twisted her insides and each time he seemed to sink deeper, his dick seeming to grow. He was so hard, like his dick was carved of stone, and she fucking loved how wet it made her to be penetrated so roughly. As he thrust, she bounced, and as the slapping of her ass against his chest sounded so hot in the small space.

All at once, Yuri sped up and she couldn’t even moan. Her eyelids fluttering, her jaw slack and a string of drool slipping from the corner of her mouth, she could only allow him to fuck her like a ragdoll. His hands were suddenly on her tits, clutching them white-knuckled ferocity and the pain was impossibly good. With one final thrust that slammed their hips together, Yuri filled her with his seed, pumping cum deep into her pussy and grunting like a wild animal.

‘Your pussy milk Yuri’s cock,’ he grinned, ‘your pussy so good. Yuri think he likes black bitches now. You lick me clean now, rogovoy shlyukha.’

Something overwhelmed Diamond then: he may have cum, but all that cum inside her was hotter than anything she had ever experienced. It had made her so fucking horny and all she could think about was getting more of it, maybe cumming again herself.

‘No, Yuri’s black bitch needs more.’ Spinning around, she faced him, her knees planted beside his hips. Clutching his open shift desperately she began to ride him hard, bouncing her body up and down on his member. Yuri moaned aloud and his hands were soon on her ass, slamming her down as hard as he could. She felt like he was using her as a human fleshlight and it was so fucking hot. She rode him frantically, every inch of her craving his seed inside her.

She almost cried as she felt another orgasm building inside her. It grew rapidly, bubbling up inside her until the pleasure was almost unbearable and she felt like she might burst. All at once the two lovers came together, their screams so loud that she would not have been surprised if they could be heard in the club down below. They collapsed beside one another, breathless and sweaty, and she moaned softly as she felt Yuri’s cum leak from her pussy onto the floor. Her body trembled.

A little while later, Diamond left the room and found Megan waiting outside the door expectantly. Yuri had fallen asleep and dozed with a happy smile on his face.

Megan handed her a skimpy leather underwear set, complete with chains and nipple slits. She smiled coyly. ‘You know, I never realised men were so easy to play.’

‘How do you mean?’ Diamond asked, slipping into the outfit.

‘Well, I mean, it was all so easy. All I had to do was send a few messages to bring you running, and convincing Yuri to use the drug on you barely took more than a few fluttered eyelashes.’

‘It was you then? You’re M?’

‘In the flesh,’ Megan grinned. ‘I’m assuming you can figure out why I turned you?’

‘Of course,’ Diamond nodded. The sharp wit and keen mind of the Detective had only been elevated by the drug. ‘You assumed that if anybody knows about the crime syndicates in this city it would be the Detective.’

‘And was I right?’

Diamond smiled devilishly. ‘Dealing locations, safe houses, bases of operations, key members, international associates, internal hierarchies, everything. He was working to bring down the gangs for years. He knew where the Yakuza boss gets his fucking shoes shone. And now, so do I. As an added bonus, the only uncorrupted cop who was left is now off the streets, and he knew the allegiances of pretty much every officer in the precinct.’ She winked at Megan. ‘If there’s anything he didn’t know, I’m sure I can use a little feminine persuasion to weasel it out of one of those fucking runts.’

Megan’s grin widened. ‘I hope Yuri is enjoying his power while it lasts, because his days are numbered, sister.’

Diamond clutched her tits and moaned. ‘Mmmm, that’s right. And God are we going to look good on his throne.’

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Thanks for reading!

As mentioned above, this story is a part of Mara’s Mischief’s ‘Machiavellian Mistress’ universe. Detective Cooper is a character taken directly from the first story ‘Bratva Doll’, which also includes other characters you may find familiar from my sequel. You can and absolutely should check out the original story, and all of her works. This universe is open for any creators to add to, just make sure to tag Mara in any stories you post so she can see how you’ve expanded her world.

You can find the original story here: http://maramischiefs.blogspot.com/2019/06/machiavellian-mistress-bratva-doll.html

And check out more of her work here: http://maramischiefs.blogspot.com/

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