A Traffic Stop by a Bad Cop

This is a story about a young wife being stopped for speeding by a bad cop. The same story is also published with the young wife being stopped by a good cop. I'm very interested to know which version is better received by the readers. Comments are welcome and very much appreciated. Thanks!

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My husband, Bud and I had just recently moved to from a small town in the Carolinas to a big metropolitan area in the Northeast. He'd taken a job as a creative director in an ad agency in the city and we'd bought a nice house way out in the country so we could have a place to live that was more to our liking.

It was fun and exciting to be in a new place and I'd met some new friends through his job and when he worked late, my new girlfriends and me would drive into the city and have fun together. I have to admit that a few of them were too wild for me but I didn't know all that many girls and I knew over time I'd find the perfect friends for me!

Well, when I got home from a last night from a fun evening Bud and I had a serious talk about our finances. I guess I'd been spending more money than I should have and I have to admit that going out with my new 'wild' friends was putting a strain on our already tight money situation. We both agreed I should start to look for a job to help make ends meet.

The next morning, after my husband left for work I put on a nice dress and starting looking for jobs on the internet. I was drinking my coffee and made a list of jobs to apply for. Then, I drove into the city and began my search. The third place I stopped was at a very large, upscale art gallery. The ad said 'Online Marketing Manager' and was conducting Interviews between 10 and 11. When I got there, I saw a room full of women. I spoke to the general manager's private secretary and she told me it would be awhile. This was the first time that I had seen so many other women competing for a job like this and they were all dressed well.

Well, I waited my turn and I started to think this was going to be an all day interview. In one hour he had only interviewed two women; more like girls. I'm not putting down young girls; after all I was 19 once, and the women here ranged from 18 to I think about 50. Being a very attractive woman with a very nice resume, I had a feeling I stood a chance.

Sure enough, the wait was worth it because I got the job! I stayed and filled out paperwork till very late in the afternoon and I was on cloud nine driving home, taking short cuts on lonely roads through the countryside as the sun began fading in the sky.

One of my new girlfriends that I'd gone out with the night before called and said she'd left her party purse in my car. "It's under the passenger side seat, Sweety. Is it there?" she asked.

I diverted my eyes from the road for just a second to look. Sure enough, her shiny party purse all covered in sequins was sticking out from under the seat.

She made me promise I'd get it to her tomorrow. "Don't worry, I promise." I told her.

I looked up and saw the lights flashing on the car behind me. "Shit," I said aloud. An unmarked car had snuck up behind me. "I'm getting pulled over. I gotta go," I told her.

"Di, hold on. I...." she added, trying to keep me on.

"Gotta go, girlfriend. Talk to ya later," I interrupted and threw my phone into the seat.

"Great, this is all we need. Throwing more money down the drain for nothing at all," I said to myself as I pulled onto the shoulder. In my rear view mirror I watched a very muscular, handsome man wearing sunglasses get out of the car. "I know how to handle this," I whispered and pinched the hem of my skirt between my thumbs and forefingers and pulled it up my thighs until my stocking tops were showing.

Just a hint of my panties were visible to me as he tapped on the window with his knuckles. Mmmmm, such a handsome officer. I'll be on my way home in no time, I thought as I powered the window down.

"May I see your license and registration, Ma'am?" the officer stated in a rather matter of fact tone, not seeming to pay the least bit of attention to my legs.

"Hmmph," I retorted in a whisper. I'd pulled my skirt up my thighs so far that my panties were almost showing and here he was, not even noticing. If he weren't such a big strong handsome officer I might have given him a piece of my mind. Or, at least that's what I told myself to make me feel better about the situation.

"License and registration, Ma'am," he said again. "Talking on your cellphone, weaving across the centerline and speeding are all traffic violations."

"Please call me Di," I replied as I handed him my license from back home.

While I rummaged through the glove box for my registration my good looking officer identified himself as Detective James. He informed me that my license was out of date. "This is an invalid license, Di. Is this your car?"

Adding to my problems, I couldn't find my registration and I was getting frustrated and emotional. "Well, of course it is Officer James. It's just that I must have left my registration at home. We just moved here to the city and I don't know where everything is."

I looked up to see him pull his sunglasses down his nose and give me a stern look. "Get out of the car, ma'am."

In mere seconds, my mind was spinning and I felt flush and tears started rolling down my cheeks. "I... I uhmm....I, don't know where they are officer. I really don,"

He cut me off before I could explain myself. "Ma'am, get out of the car."

Frustrated and emotional, I opened the door and swung my left leg around my seat. I didn't mean to, but with my skirt already pulled way up my legs I gave Detective James quite a nice flash of my very skimpy panties. I didn't mean to do it. I really didn't.

I was too emotional to know if he looked. But, I'm sure that he thought I was doing it on purpose. With my eyes full of tears I couldn't focus anyway and all I could think of was the trouble I was in.

"Hands against the car and spread your legs," he said next.

I thought that was more than a bit unusual. I was missing my license and registration. Big deal, I thought. And, so what if I was on my cell phone and maybe weaving a little bit and maybe going too fast. But, I wasn't about to upset him and put myself into even more of a jam, so I did as I was told.

I put my hands on the trunk lid and spread my legs wide. I was facing away from Detective James as I heard the sound of him pulling off his gloves, adding to the anticipation of what was going to be my first ever pat-down.

"Anything sharp in your clothes, ma'am. Any needles? Drugs? It'll be much easier if you tell me now," he stated as if he'd done this a hundred times.

My chest was heaving now and I was sobbing and gasping to catch more breath and I was too emotional to respond with anything rational and just blurted something out. "In this dress? Where would I hide it? In my panties?"

Immediately after I said it, I regretted it.

He tossed his gloves on the trunk beside me. "I suppose I'll just have to find out on my own, now won't I."

To be honest, I'd always enjoyed fantasizing about a big strong policeman ravishing me in a setting just like this; All alone on a country road and treating me a little bit roughly. But, not today. No, not now when all I wanted was to get home and make Bud proud of me for finding my new job.

But, I couldn't help thinking about my fantasy when both of his strong hands touched my shoulders at the same times, holding me firmly and sending an incredible warm rush through my body. I gave a feigned protest but quickly yielded to his touch as his thumbs pushed into the back of my shoulder while his fingers pressed into the front and I could feel his strength through his hands and I knew I'd best not resist.

I must've felt no heavier than a doll to him and he pulled me back towards him and then pushed me onto the lid of the trunk, my legs and hips touching the cool metal while his warm hands moved down my sides and onto my small waist.

His hands then swept under me, feeling warm as they separated my tummy from the metal and they moved up onto my ribcage and across the bottom swell of my breasts. My nipples were hard from the cold metal and his hands lingered on them, warming them and squeezing them ever so slightly, frisking them and then placing my hard little nipples between his first and middle fingers and closing them together.

"Fuck, fuck, what have I gotten myself into," I said to myself. This must be improper. This isn't right. But, what was I to do? And, why did it feel so good?

He released my nipples and moved off my breasts and onto my sides. His big fingers seemed to glide gently across each of my ribs, one by one, as if erotically dancing down my side.

I was sobbing heavier now and my head was turned to one side and my mind was spinning and in the middle of my thoughts I felt a wetness between my legs. "Oh no.. Oh no, I can't be enjoying this. This isn't right," I said to myself as his hands swept down my hips and my pussy moistened.

Detective James's hands reached the hem of my dress and then beyond it and I felt his flesh touch mine and as it did, a quiver of arousal shot through me. He spread his hands wide with his thumbs on the inside of my thighs and his fingers on the outside and pulled them down my legs, across the top of my stockings. In a quick motion he frisked down to my ankles and back above my knees, squeezing me strongly and more slowly on the upward thrust.

"Oh my," I whispered softly as he pulled his hands up past my stocking tops and under my skirt. With my legs spread so wide, my panties were pulled between my lips and I could feel the coolness of the breeze as it blew across my labia. He paused with his thumbs only an inch from my pussy and his fingers spread across my cheeks.

I knew I was being violated and I should have tried to stop him, but I didn't. I wanted him to touch me so badly that I wiggled my hips toward him, in an attempt to feel his thumb touch my pussy.

"Let's see what's under here," he said and pulled my skirt above my hips, revealing everything previously forbidden to any man except Bud. Goosebumps formed on my behind as the air blew across it.

I wanted to yell out to him. I knew I should. I should yell, "Stop". "Unhand me". But I was too scared to protest. And, I was too aroused to fight off my desires.

Before his hands returned to their previous position; thumbs between my thighs and fingers across my ass, he gave me a spank. "Thwaakk!" And, I let out a yelp more from the surprise of it than the pain. Oh my gosh! Where'd that come from? But, I didn't say a word.

His thumbs then touched me. They pulled me open. How wide, I'm not at all certain cause my mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but it felt as if my lips were stretched far enough to expose my vagina to him and the thought of a large cock finding its way into me suddenly consumed me. and all I could think about was my arousal.

Then, he suddenly released me.

"Where's your purse?" he asked and I told him it was in the passenger seat. "You don't mind if I search it, do you?" I was still very flustered from being so violated when I told him it was fine. "Stay right here, Di." He said.

After only a moment or two he came out of the car with my girlfriend's purse instead of mine and after quickly rummaging through it he tossed it back into the car and walked up to me.

He looked down and then up again. "Di, I enjoyed our little game of 'Pat Down' against the back of your car. You're just my type; beautiful, tall and slender. And, I noticed how turned on it made you; wiggled your hips against my hands, faking your protest and giving me a soft moan."

"Well, uhmmm... ahhhh. I suppose I was just a bit aroused, Detective James. I mean, you are a very handsome man," I told him.

Then Detective James said, "That's why it's so hard for me to say this. I have to tell you, Di. I'm very disappointed in you. Drug possession is a serious crime in this state."

I looked toward him and saw a vial of coke in his fingers. I was shaken to the core and I could not believe what I was hearing.

I felt trapped. I said "That's not mine; I mean I didn't put it in there. It must be my girlfriend's, not mine. My God I would never do that, never." I began to cry I felt so helpless.

Then he opened his other hand, showing me a second vial of cocaine. I heard Detective James say "One vial is possession. Two vials is distribution; a Class III felony. I'm going to have to take you in."

"It's my girlfriend's. It has to be my girlfriend's," I shouted.

He roughly turned me around, pulled my arms behind my back and slapped handcuffs on my wrists. It all happened so quickly. James led me to his car, opened the back door and held my head as he pushed me into the back seat. I couldn't believe I was in this situation but I was.

I was balling now. I couldn't understand why this was happening. It was all so unfair. I don't even use coke. I was frantically trying to figure it all out as he drove me to the police station. I had to find a way out. I couldn't let this happen. I had to find a way to get through to him. I just had to somehow get Bud involved.

"Detective James. Please, is there another way? Please..." I pleaded with my wrists aching from the sharp edges of the handcuffs grinding against them. I felt humiliated, both for being in cuffs and having to beg for some relief from a situation that I should never have been in. He didn't even reply, treating me as if I were not even there and I saw passing motorists looking at me in the back of his car, knowing I was under arrest and leering at me as if I were a common criminal.

Up ahead was a T in the road. Go left and we'd be at the police station in a matter of minutes. To the right was the road to our house, where Bud was probably waiting for me to get home. I gave it one last try. "Detective James. Please, can you just take me home and discuss this with my husband. I'm sure he can help explain."

He reached up and adjusted his rear view mirror. "Di, criminals need to be in prison. I'm not too keen on risking my reputation on a common drug dealer. But, I'll give you one chance. One chance to convince me that you're not dealing drugs. You'd better hope your husband can explain this."

He made the right turn and headed toward our house. Bud would be home from work by now. He'd better be.

It gave me the first sign of hope. "Oh my God, thank you. Oh thank you, Detective James."

When we turned onto our block, I looked around for neighbors out in their yards, but thankfully none were. We pulled into the driveway and thank god, Bud's car was there.

"Do I have to get out in these?" I asked. Detective James didn't even bother to answer. He got out, helped me out of the back seat and escorted me to the front door with my arms behind me in cuffs and his hand on the small of my back.

I was frantic with embarrassment and worry, wondering if the nosy old neighborhood biddies would see. "Hurry, Bud. Hurry," I pleaded as Detective James rang the bell.

After what seemed forever, Bud opened the door. His eyes opened wide as saucers and his jaw dropped at the sight of me in cuffs. Detective James introduced himself as we stood there, exposed to the neighborhood. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Bud stepped aside and invited the detective inside.

The front door closing behind me was a relief. But, I knew I was still in trouble. I was in cuffs and as I stood before him, Bud could see the troubled look on my face.

"What's going on here, officer?" he asked.

Detective James explained the situation to Bud. He'd pulled me over for traffic violations. I didn't have a valid license or registration. He'd searched me and the car and found two vials of cocaine. He held out the vials in the palm of his hand.

"It's not mine, Bud. I never had that. I didn't do it, Darling," I insisted.

Detective James glared at me before continuing. "I shoudn't have. But, I promised to bring her here so that you might be able to help clear things up before I fill out a report that will put her in prison."

I jumped in. "Bud that coke's not mine. I don't know how it got in my purse."

Detective James spoke softly. "Dear, Di... Dear dear, Di... I am going to tell you this one time and one time only. If you insist on trying to tell me that you did not do what all this evidence proves that you did I will fill out the report right now and sign it. If you are honest with me and admit that you did it, I'll see if there is a way to keep you out of jail.

I looked at Bud. Our eyes met. I could see his mind working, trying to find a way out. He's good at that, working quickly through problems and I needed him to work quickly through this. "Help me, Bud" I pleaded.

Bud jumped in and suggested we all sit and discuss my predicament over a drink and led us into the lounge. James insisted I stay in the cuffs. "She's still under arrest," he said.

I sat on the sofa across from James, and Bud poured us all a scotch. He must've known I needed a stiff drink cause he raised the glass to my lips and poured a healthy amount into my mouth. Bud reasoned with Detective James over the course of two drinks, vouching for my character and pleading my case.

It's strange to describe, but they seemed to form a strange bond based on doing what's right for me and making sure I was treated well and I found myself feeling optimistic that I was going to get out of this horrible situation.

Finally, James turned to me and offered a compromise. He continued, "I can live with a young woman taking drugs because she's depressed and all alone in a new city. But I won't stand for a liar with evidence like this. Are you ready to go to prison for 15 years; lose your husband, your home, your future? If you admit to what you did, and sign a statement to that effect, I won't file a report."

I sat there with my mind spinning. If I told the truth, I would be going to jail. If I admitted to the crime he would not press charges. I could not believe it; lie and I'm OK, lie and I go to jail.

He looked at me and said "Come on Di, admit it, was this cocaine yours or not?"

I looked at Bud. He knew the coke wasn't mine. He knew me too well for that. But, I also knew from his expression that he thought it best to admit it. I looked at James and said softly, "Yes, it was mine."

I saw him smile and then he said. "OK, now just one more thing. I want you to write down in your own handwriting and admit to me that you had the cocaine and how sorry you are. If you don't, I take you to the station and turn in my report."

He took the handcuffs off my wrists and I shook them, releasing the pain from my arms and shoulders. He handed me his notepad and a pen. I took a strong drink of scotch and crafted my statement with Bud looking over my shoulder. When it was finished, I signed it and handed it to him.

"Do you know what all this means my dear?" James asked.

I looked at him and said, "Yes, you are giving me a second chance."

"Man you two are fucking dumb," James said. "I can't believe you both are so naive. It means you're mine. I've got you as my slut now, Di."

A panic rushed through me as I realized we'd been fooled, as well as framed.

"The District Attorney will prosecute with this kind of evidence as long as it's less than two years old. So, Di.... You're my bitch for two years. And, old Buddy Boy there can't do a damn thing about it. I got you dead to rights."

Bud bristled at hearing that. "You can't do this to us!" he screamed. "You're a cop. You can't frame us like this."

Detective James's face grew a hard scowl. "Is that right, Buddy Boy?"

Bud stood strong and said it again. As soon as he finished, he took a hard punch to his gut that dropped him to his knees.