Chapter 4

Senior Constable Cassandra McNamara gasped.

She no longer had any real idea of time or place – her every movement was pure instinct.

The mist that had shrouded everything had evaporated. But the policewoman hadn’t noticed.

None of the ‘Women Police’ had.

Yet, there was no real heat in the morning sun.

The shade of the nearby gum trees did little. There was no shade nor any shadows.

And despite the searing forty-five degrees Celsius of the day, the twenty-five-year-old former ‘Miss Territory Police’ felt nothing – all she was conscious of was ‘Mistress Jedda’ and her growing ‘cock’...

“That’s it...?”

“Feel it inside you, C-Cassandra?”

The mystical ‘Ngangkari Woman’ grasped at the kneeling policewoman’s head - she forced her penis deeper.

Cassandra struggled - she wanted to gag. And she needed air.

There was no water in Seven Mile Creek.

But, the police car had stalled beside a large billabong and the blue water stretched for almost a kilometre through a lush corridor of grasslands back towards the western ridgeline.

Yet they were alone. No kangaroos. No wildlife of any description.

Dust swirled lazily skywards – picked up by a freshening breeze that slid around the stationary Holden ‘Kingswood’ sedan and the women. Much like the earlier mist, the lazy morning breeze seemed to shroud them from the day.

Saliva and ‘cum’ oozed down Cassandra’s chin. She needed to a moment - it was nothing but instinct for nothing she now did was by any real choice.

Pausing for a hurried breath of air, her soft green eyes saw nothing – her once crisp khaki ‘Summer’ policewoman’s uniform dress still clung to her moist skin, neatly accentuating every arable fold of her firm body as she took the black ‘cock’ between her quivering lips again.

The constant chant of the distant didgeridoos rose slowly in intensity.

And the steady beat of the accompanying clapsticks quickened a little – it was subtle and provided a discreet background soundtrack to the delightfully obscene ‘slurping’ noises emanating from all four policewomen as they obediently ‘pleasured’ the black women and the ‘missing’ young Nurse.

Cassandra closed her eyes. She was lost almost completely in the moment.

Constable Veronica Kensington lay over the bonnet of the police car now.

Grasping her uniform dress in one hand and the driver’s side windscreen wiper with her other, the naked thirty-two-year-old’s face was almost concealed by her shoulder-length burgundy hair as she teased at the tallest of the Aboriginal women’s aching clit with the very tip of her tongue.

Veronica Elizabeth Kensington’s body was drenched in the ‘twenty something’ Warramunga beauty’s fragrant ‘pussy’ as she performed cunnilingus on her – a former ‘Stripper’ turned prostitute, the half-caste had once shared a cell with ‘Mistress Jedda’ at Berrima’ Women’s Prison and had assisted with ‘fucking’ Prison Officer Pauline Kennedy.

She had been promised a reward by the beautiful ‘Ngangkari Woman’ she worshipped, and now was only too willing to savor the female ‘Pig’ as she’d been told. Elizabeth was a devoted apostle of ‘Mistress Jedda’ and would do anything for her,

“Oh ... Oh ... Oh...?”

Spreadeagle on the nearby grassy verge, Constable Dominique Robertson lay with her arms outstretched and her legs wide apart – she still wore her short-sleeved khaki uniform shirt knotted ‘halter style’ tightly about her waist, but nothing else. And, the once crisp fabric of the sodden shirt was almost transparent as it clung to the brunette policewoman’s smooth alabaster skin. But she had no idea of time and place. Dominique was now a helpless slave.

Sister Sonya Gallagher straddled the thirty-year-old – the District Nurse now impaled on Dominique’s tongue as another of ‘Mistress Jedda’ Namajira’s fervent devotees ‘fucked’ the helpless police officer with her very own baton. All three were about to ‘cum’ yet again.

With each second, the shimmering horizon grew closer and closer.

Lips caressed lips – fingers violated moist ‘pussies’ and more than one probing tongue teased at an aching clitoris, as the clique of policewomen continued to ‘pleasure’ their mystical captors. Neither the former ‘Miss Northern Territory Police’ nor Veronica, Dominique or Savannah however cared. They had little comprehension of what was happening - nor did they had any memories of what had happened in the last twenty-four hours...?

Barely aware of each other, they were just focused on eagerly doing what was required of them as the heat haze now engulfed them all. In an instant, they were gone. The shimmering haze consumed all but the stranded dust-covered police car. Nobody in Darwin would ever know their fate.