Madam Prosecutor

It's tough being a colonel of justice and holding the position of chief prosecutor for a city district. Especially when high-profile cases are being investigated, pressure comes from all sides, and threats are pouring in from everywhere. Dasha was 45 years old, and for her age, she looked very young and attractive; men still lined up for her with their pants bulging. She had long, thick black hair, delicate facial features, full and firm breasts. She had a small but very sexy tummy, full, firm, and elastic thighs that transitioned into equally strong calves with elegant ankles and feet. In short, her legs were just right, and combined with her perky, lifted butt, they immediately

drove men crazy.

And on top of all that, she had magnificent posture, which made Dasha an incredibly irresistible woman. She had been divorced for 10 years and had a 25-year-old daughter, Nastya. It must be said that Dasha loved her only daughter very much, and they were also very close friends, practically hiding nothing from each other. It should also be noted that Nastya was almost an exact copy of Dasha, except for minor differences inherited from her father.

So now, Dasha, as the chief prosecutor, was overseeing a high-profile case of large-scale fraud; the pressure on her was no joke—from her superiors on one side and the criminals on the other. The main suspect was a businesswoman who had strong connections not only in the city and region but also in Moscow. Dasha had an impeccable reputation as an incorruptible prosecutor, and many people involved in this case didn't like that she was controlling it and not letting it fall apart. Dasha had already been offered bribes several times, and not just bribes but a whole fortune that increased with each offer, but she was a very principled woman and didn't hold her high position for nothing.

Dasha also understood that threats would soon start pouring in, but she knew they wouldn't kill her—that wasn't profitable for the criminals—and the rest didn't scare her. Dasha was reviewing reports on the case she was overseeing when the phone rang.

 — Chief Prosecutor Sokolova. — Dasha introduced herself routinely.

 — Good afternoon, Darya Alexandrovna. — a sly female voice came through the receiver.

 — I'm listening, what is this regarding?

 — It's a personal matter, Darya Alexandrovna. — the woman said. — We know each other by reputation. And I'm very sorry that you refuse to cooperate with me and help me.

 — Madam Belyaeva, I presume! — Dasha said. — I would like to meet with you.

 — You know, Darya Alexandrovna, I would like that too! — Belyaeva laughed.

 — Very well! I presume, Madam Belyaeva, you will drop by my office at the prosecutor's office? — Dasha inquired.

 — I suggest we meet on my turf! — Belyaeva replied.

 — Still, come see me! I'll even issue you a summons! — said Dasha.

 — I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, Darya Alexandrovna. — Belyaeva said with feigned regret. — Mom! Get me out of here!

Hearing her daughter's voice, everything inside Dasha went cold. Nastya was scared, but there was no panic in her voice, which pleased Dasha, but the fear for her daughter didn't go away.

 — Now I hope we understand each other better, Darya Alexandrovna!? — Belyaeva laughed.

 — If you lay a finger on her, I'll grind you to dust! — Dasha hissed angrily.

 — You're not in a position to threaten! — Belyaeva said harshly. — And don't do anything stupid, come alone. Write down the address.

Dasha was shaking and trembling all over; her first desire was to call in the riot police, but after thinking it over, she decided it wasn't worth it—her daughter might not even be at the address, and then only God knows what they would do to her. She was right; they spent the whole day dragging her all over the city, here and there, and utterly exhausted, she just screamed into her mobile phone for Belyaeva to stop this game and sent her to the right address. Dasha's nerves were at their limit; the worst part was that her daughter was four months pregnant, any stress and worry only harmed her and the baby. Finally, Dasha found the right house; it was located outside the city, a neat little cottage. Ringing the doorbell, Dasha waited impatiently; she didn't have to wait long, the door opened, and Belyaeva appeared in the doorway before her. She was an attractive woman, a former model, now a businesswoman with a hard and cold expression on her face.

 — Where is my daughter? — Dasha asked, almost breaking into a scream.

 — Now, why are you like that, come in, you'll see her now! — Belyaeva said with feigned hospitality. — Oh, by the way, I think we'd better switch to using 'you' informally!

 — I want to see Nastya! — Dasha insisted.

 — How impatient you are, Dasha! Well, okay, follow me.

They went up to the second floor and entered a spacious room. The first thing Dasha saw was her daughter Nastya, standing on all fours, completely naked. Nastya had an amazing figure; she was standing sideways to Dasha, who could examine her properly; her legs, bent at the knees and spread wide apart, were simply stunning, and her perky butt, just like her own, looked very appetizing. Nastya's full, young breasts hung quite arousingly under their own weight, and a rather unexpected thought flashed through Dasha's mind that this pose suited her daughter very well. And her daughter's slightly rounded belly made her incredibly seductive; pregnant women generally look very erotic. But her gaze immediately shifted to the contraption that was holding her daughter in that position; it turned out to be a pillory—Nastya's wrists and neck were locked in a stock, and above her neck hung a sharply honed knife. Her heart skipped a beat and formed a lump in her throat; Dasha began to choke from the horror that gripped her.

 — Let Nastya go, I'll do whatever you want! — Dasha pleaded.

 — Of course, of course, we'll just shoot a little movie and then I'll let both of you go! — Belyaeva said, laughing. — I need to be sure you won't change your mind about helping me!

 — What movie?! — Dasha asked, not understanding.

 — You have a great daughter! — Belyaeva continued, ignoring Dasha's question. — Fuck her.

Dasha was prepared for anything, but not even this in her worst nightmares. She was stunned and fell into a stupor, trying to comprehend what she had heard, but she couldn't manage it. She stared at the kidnapper, hoping she had simply misheard!

 — Well, what are you standing there for, get undressed! — Belyaeva said harshly. — And don't kick up a fuss, see this remote? All I have to do is press this little button and…

 — But she's pregnant! — Dasha said, still struggling to think.

 — So what, she's not giving birth. — Belyaeva said without any expression. — Besides, it'll be good for her; she's had a rough day.

 — I… I can't! — Dasha exclaimed in horror.

 — Well then…

 — Stop! Stop… don't… I… I'll do it! — Dasha screamed, seeing Belyaeva's finger rest on the button.

 — Good girl! — Belyaeva exclaimed. — There's nothing scary about this, in the end, you'll both only get pleasure! And I'll have insurance; you'll be good girls, and no one will find out. — Belyaeva taunted. — I'm sure you'll appreciate all the advantages of such sex; you'll even thank me later!

 — Oh, go to hell… — Dasha exclaimed, crying, already taking off her uniform, which she had left work in, with trembling hands.

 — Tsk, how rude, Madam Prosecutor! And don't forget to use that thing for complete happiness! — Belyaeva said, pointing her hand at an artificial penis with a hip harness.

Only by following Belyaeva's hand with her eyes did Dasha see the working camera under which the dildo lay. However disgusting what she was about to do to her daughter was, Dasha had no choice; pulling off her panties, she headed for the dildo. Strapping it on and securing it well, Dasha approached Nastya, who had heard everything but hadn't uttered a word. Standing behind her daughter, Dasha froze, unable to take her eyes off the sight before her. Nastya's beautiful back was slightly arched, and her little butt was lifted up; her firm buttocks parted slightly, revealing the tight ring of her anus. The smoothly shaved pussy with plump lips, from which slightly protruded dark pink petals of the labia minora, seduced and enchanted. Dasha had never in her life seen such an intimate part of a woman so close and in such detail, especially that of her own daughter, at least not since she was five years old. And even then, she was just washing her daughter, not examining her charms, but now before her was not a little girl but a young, seductive woman. To say that Dasha didn't appreciate what she was seeing now would be a lie; only a blind person couldn't, and she was not blind.

 — Nastyusha, please forgive me! — Dasha sobbed, trying not to betray her excitement, which had gripped her from such an erotic sight. — I have no choice!

 — It's okay, Mom, I understand everything. — Nastya also sobbed, terribly embarrassed by the realization of what her mother was going to do to her. — I don't blame you for anything.

 — Enough talking. — Belyaeva barked. — Fuck her properly. And look, if she doesn't enjoy it, I'll press the button. So try your hardest!

Burning with shame, Dasha reached her palm to her daughter's pussy and timidly stroked it with her fingers; Nastya shuddered at her touch but said nothing. Then Dasha began to caress her daughter's plump lips more confidently with her fingers, and purely female curiosity awoke in her. To the touch, the lips felt velvety, and caressing them was a pleasure, but Nastya didn't react to her caresses at all; then Dasha generously moistened her finger with saliva and gently ran it along the slit, wetting the delicate petals. She became engrossed in this activity; she tenderly teased the dark pink petals, kneaded the plump lips of Nastya's pussy, but to her displeasure and disappointment, there was still no reaction.

 — Nastyusha, darling, please help me!? — Dasha said, offended.

 — Sorry, Mom, I can't! — Nastya sobbed.

 — Well, I can't do it dry! — Dasha exclaimed in despair; she really didn't want to cause her daughter pain.

 — Stop whining, lick her, you fool! — Belyaeva shouted angrily.

Gasping convulsively, Dasha lowered her head and very timidly touched her daughter's pussy with her lips; Nastya shuddered again. Then she opened her lips wider and buried herself in the plump lips. Then she carefully ran her tongue along the slit and felt a tremor run through Nastya's body. Now Dasha confidently began to work on her daughter's pussy, now slowly, now quickly working her tongue, feeling and seeing how Nastya's pussy began to moisten and open. Dasha sucked on the petals, played with them with her tongue, and again moved to the already opened slit, and when she heard her daughter's languid, drawn-out moan, she simply rejoiced; her female pride was satisfied. Without thinking, she immediately plunged her playful little tongue into her daughter's opened vagina and diligently fucked Nastya with it for about five minutes, while she, aroused, wiggled her butt. Dasha herself listened to her own sensations; all of this was unusual and new for her, the taste of her daughter's pussy was pleasant in every way, and to say that Dasha felt disgust at everything happening would be a blatant lie. Continuing to frolic with her tongue on her daughter's juicy pussy, Dasha remembered another very sensitive female organ that was now quite accessible to her; pulling back the hood hiding Nastya's clitoris, she released it. However, it didn't stay free for long; after admiring this pearl, Dasha enveloped it in the embrace of her sensual lips and began to lustfully suck on the trembling little bead.

 — Oooooo… — Dasha heard her daughter's loud moans. — Ooohhh…

Releasing the clitoris from her lips, she began to lick around it in circular motions with her tongue, enjoying both the taste and the delight with which Nastya began to thrust towards her. Then she began to rapidly stimulate the tip of the clitoris, barely touching it with her tongue. Simultaneously massaging the spot just above the clitoris with her fingers and fucking her daughter's vagina with the fingers of her other hand, driving Nastya into a frenzy.

 — AAAAaaaaa… mmmmm… — Nastya tensed up and then began to convulse, coming violently into Dasha's mouth.

Dasha didn't miss a single drop of her daughter's sweet nectar and even shamelessly began to suck it out of her pussy, wanting to drink everything Nastya had given her. And all the while, Belyaeva watched with greedy eyes, and the camera impassively recorded everything happening.

 — Mmm! Not bad with your tongue! Your daughter is delighted! — Belyaeva laughed. — Well, now put it in her all the way.

There was nothing to be done, and Dasha herself wanted it by now, and besides, her daughter wasn't against it either. So without thinking, Dasha straightened up, took hold of the rather impressive-sized dildo, and directed it into her daughter's invitingly opened vagina. Dasha slowly began to sink the dildo into the juicy vagina, watching as first the large head and then the entire shaft disappeared up to the hilt deep inside her pussy.

 — Ohhh… that's good… — Nastya drawled sweetly.

Meanwhile, Dasha ran her palms over her daughter's firm buttocks, squeezed her buttocks hard, and then moved them to Nastya's rounded belly. The fact that she was fucking her own daughter was exciting in itself, but what excited Dasha even more was that Nastya was pregnant. Supporting Nastya by the belly, Dasha slowly began to rock her hips, gently entering her daughter's pussy; she fucked her with a special kind of pleasure,