Fuck the Police

My partner, Lee, was assigned to me when I joined the force six months ago. Late thirties and muscular, Lee was definitely the right guy to be teamed up with as a rookie. He taught me the useful tips and tricks you don't learn at the academy, the stuff that actually helps you out on the street. And while he has no plans to trade his seat in the patrol car for one behind a desk, he knows how "the system" works and has been eager to tell me how to plan ahead for my future career.

Though buttering up to your superiors and working overtime like mad gets you noticed, his real advice was that you really just need to find that one opportunity to do something really impressive...and that opportunity can arrive any day.

Knowing of my hopes to one day become a detective, Lee had made sure the right people around town knew that we are always up to lend a helping hand. Many patrolmen and -women don't like being told what to do by the detectives, so being known by these detectives as no-nonsense, helpful street cops helps.

One of those detectives asked us to pick up a suspect going by the name of Biggie.

Lee had gone over the details while I drove to the provided address, an apartment complex where our arrival was always loudly announced by kids on the corners.

The first few times I came here, I wanted to arrest every single one of these assholes, just for all the name calling and whistling they threw my way. A cop in their streets wasn't a welcome sight, but young attractive policewomen were received a little different than older guys. I dreaded to think what would happen if I came here alone.

We walked upstairs to Biggie's apartment, Lee not too subtly shoving aside a pair of youngsters who were looking to provoke the "little white girl looking all tough".

Despite Lee's teachings, I occasionally still wanted to punch brats like that in the mouth. But I knew better than to give in to such taunts, and silently followed my partner's lead.

At the door, Lee turned to me and mentioned that the detectives in question wanted this guy bad, as they were convinced he was involved in a murder a week prior. When the detectives share such information, it means that you're more or less allowed and expected to bend the rules a little, and ensure that you don't give the subject time to escape.

Skipping the formalities of knocking, asking and shouting, Lee went straight to the point and kicked the door in. I followed right behind him, passed him as he went into the living room and approached the bedroom, the door slightly ajar.

I moved into the bedroom and froze at the sight - and sound - of an enormous black guy on top of a small, blonde woman. His nickname was immediately made obvious as he towered over the girl below him, who yelped in surprise of our intrusion.

Biggie, too, turned to face me, and was about to say something when Lee stormed in and told him to shut up, get up and show his hands. With a sigh, Biggie slowly got off of the blonde, who moaned a little in disappointment.

As he climbed out of bed I saw another reason for his nickname. I gasped at the sight of his dick, as big as my forearm and clearly coated in the blonde's juices. He laughed at my obvious distracted state, and Lee told me to "snap out of it" as he stepped towards the bed and told them both to get dressed.

"Are you sure?" Biggie laughed, "I think your partner doesn't want me to get dressed."

Lee, taking little heed to his own advice about reacting to taunts, immediately turned Biggie around and slammed him against the wall, despite being half the man's size. "Shut up and get dressed," he repeated with a grunt.

When he finally got dressed, and the blonde had stormed out, I cuffed him and walked him out with Lee.

"Shit, girl, if you want me all for yourself you can just ask," Biggie said out loud as we walked him to our car. "Don't have to scare the other bitches away like that."

Lee, ever so gentle, slapped Biggie on the back of his head and told him to shut it. I didn't respond to him, nor to the series of insults his neighbors were throwing our way.

For the rest of the shift Lee didn't speak about the arrest or my reaction to it, but on my way out at the end of the day I was stopped by detective Jackson, the guy who asked us to make the arrest.

He wanted to inform me that, while he was grateful that we made the arrest, the guy was already released because there wasn't enough evidence. Without thinking I blurted out that I was told they knew he was responsible for a killing, so how did this happen?

Jackson reaffirmed that they were still sure he ordered the hit, but they had hoped to entice him to confess due to a lack of hard evidence.

With a sigh I apologized for lashing out, blaming it on my growing annoyance of seeing criminals get away with it over and over again. Jackson put a hand on my shoulder and reminded me that many cases sadly don't stick.

When I asked him if that meant they weren't going to continue pursuing this case, he shrugged.

"We figure he has some incriminating evidence on his phone, but we're not getting a warrant for it. There's not much else we can do, so we'll be moving on. Still," he smiled, "keep it up, you're shaping up to be good police."

Though the compliment made me smile in return, and I understood Jackson's situation, I felt annoyed inside. I felt that there was more we could do, and always assumed these detectives were more willing to bend the rules a little to get to the truth.

On my way home I thought about Biggie, and came up with an idea. Admittedly, it was a pretty bad idea but I just wanted to start making a difference.

I drove over to one of Lee's contacts, a small-time drug dealer who mostly supplied teenagers looking to party. With a mild show of intimidation that I learned from my partner, I pressured the guy into handing me a homemade roofie, making up some bogus story about it being for a case. Thankfully, the guy was afraid enough of Lee to be cooperative enough for me.

With the date-rape drug in my purse and a mission in my head, I drove over to Biggie's place, fully intent to doing whatever had to be done to get access to his phone.

I figured it wouldn't be too hard to get to Biggie, just throw a little bit of flirting from an "easy blonde" his way and then spike his drink when he isn't looking. Then, unlock his phone with his fingerprint and I'd have all his emails and texts to hand over to the detectives.

Even without a warrant, they wouldn't ignore the emails, and I'd finally get someone off the streets for more than a weekend.

I parked two blocks out, realizing I could use some liquid encouragement before putting the plan in motion. I entered the local bar, immediately noticing how out of place a white girl looked, but the few people that were there hardly seemed to care. My heart skipped a beat when I saw none other than Biggie at the bar, alone. With little other choice now, I went over and sat down beside him and ordered a cocktail. It took a few seconds for Biggie to give in and look my way, and he let out a chuckle when he recognized me right away.

"Well, five-o," he smirked. "What a coincidence. Is it?"

I threw him a quick smile and took a sip from my drink. "Not here on duty," I mumbled.

"Didn't think so, on-duty cops don't dress like that," Biggie said, shamelessly checking out my breasts. "So then, why are you here?"

"I'm just fed up with work," I mumbled in honesty. "I just need to get my mind clear of it all."

"Clear of it all, except one innocent suspect, it seems. But I understand if I'm hard to forget," he laughed, emphasizing the word hard.

Normally I wouldn't be caught dead chatting up a cocky guy like this, but I knew I had to give in to get what I want. So I started playing my part and shyly moved my hair behind my ear and looked away from him a little.

I ignored him when he told me to look at him, but my heart skipped a beat when he brazenly put his hand on my thigh. I turned to face him and had to fight off the instinct to slap his hand away, instead letting him gently caress my thigh through my jeans.

"I don't know how you found me here," he spoke softly, his hand slowly creeping towards my back. "But I know you want more of what you saw this morning."

I shook my head slightly, not quite sure how to continue this. I opted to simply let him take the lead and bit my lower lip while I arched my back a little.

He took this as an invitation and, while inching closer, ran his hand over my butt and squeezed ever so slightly, making me gasp unintentionally.

"It's okay," he shushed as he got up and stepped behind me, blocking the view for the only people who could see what was going on at this angle. His hand moved around my waist, his fingers trailing over the bare skin between my jeans and my crop top blouse. He paused for a moment, awaiting a reaction from me, but when I remained motionless his fingers slipped down the front of my jeans and for just a moment brushed over my slit.

Even with my disapproval of this man and the very plan I had set in motion, I couldn't stop my body from reacting. Biggie noticed it as well and ran the fingers of his free hand through my hair, and let the fingers in my panties rest on my slowly moistening slit.

But just like that his hand retreated, leaving me a little disappointed that he wasn't going further. I silently cursed myself a split second later, reminding myself this was just a means to get him alone.

"Let's go," he whispered in my ear. "You kept me from nutting today, you better make up for it tonight."

Everything about this guy was wrong, and I knew I should just call it off and leave.

I hadn't thought about what was actually going to happen, but I was starting to realize that I was about to take a huge risk by going with him alone.

But despite my better judgement I got up, paid for my drink and let Biggie guide me outside with his arm around my waist. From the corner of my eye I saw the grin on one of the patrons' face, who for all he knew saw a slut leave the bar with a guy she met mere minutes ago.

I was definitely starting to feel like a slut, too, even with my righteous intentions. Letting a guy touch me, nearly finger me in public, just to get some evidence? I knew I was making a huge mistake but I told myself that it was going to be worth it.

I wanted to go for my car but Biggie held me close and nudged me towards the street, and neither of us said a word until we arrived at his street. I was too anxious to even think of anything to say.

When we got to the stairs leading to his apartment, the two kids who were there this morning were hanging around again. I blushed fiercely and while they didn't say anything this time, I could feel their eyes on me and heard the giggling and whispers when we had passed.

To make it worse, Biggie ran his hand down my back again and squeezed my ass firmly and I couldn't stop myself from gasping loudly. The kids laughed and called out to us, and I felt like the ground could just open up and swallow me whole.

"Didn't think your day would end like this when you came to arrest me, did you?" He whispered as he unlocked the door.

He practically shoved me inside and closed the door immediately behind us. What small chance I had hoped to get to spike his drink turned out to be in vain, as he turned me towards him, wrapped his fingers through my hair and started to kiss me roughly.

Shocked but also shamefully aroused, I barely struggled against him as he pushed me against the wall and began French kissing me. I couldn't stop myself from moaning into his mouth in lust, even if a big part of me was very much against this.

As his hands roamed my body, groping my tits and ass, I began to realize I was going to have to let this happen to get the evidence. A naughty part of me even reasoned that it wasn't such a bad price to pay, and this thought strengthened when his hand once again slipped down my panties for a moment.

When he broke the kiss it was only to take off my shirt, which he threw aside and resumed kissing me firmly, leaving me breathless and my head spinning. It dawned on me that at this point, he was going to fuck me even if I didn't want to go through with it, but that very thought only turned me on more.

I didn't resist when his hands started unzipping my jeans and lower them past my hips, or when he unclasped my bra and cupped my naked breasts.

The taboo of it all wasn't making me think clearer and fill me with doubt, instead it made me even wetter when he slipped a finger inside me. I held on to his broad shoulders and moaned loudly, standing on the tips of my toes to even come close to matching his height.

He pulled his finger out of my pussy and unceremoniously pushed me to my knees. I gulped as I watched his enormous cock be freed from his slacks, appearing even bigger than this very morning.

I didn't even think about the fact that he had been inside another woman today, aside from momentarily feeling a stupid pang of jealousy, and took hold of his shaft with both hands.

He didn't give me much time to come to terms with it and gripped my hair in one hand, and guided me towards his cock.

I looked up to him pleadingly as he put his cock in my mouth and immediately started pushing it down my throat. I struggled in vain, completely powerless against a man that large, and gave up after a few seconds to instead focus on breathing and relaxing my throat.

He groaned loudly as my throat opened up for his large cock, and he slowed down enough to make the intrusion a little more bearable. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes but he just smiled at me with a devious look in his eyes.

"I knew you were a good little slut," he taunted. "If it weren't for your partner, you would've taken Nadia's place this morning, wouldn't you?"

Hearing the blonde's name made my stomach turn in a way I didn't expect. I didn't want to hear about his other women, even if I was doing this for the sake of the investigation.

"Actually, about that," he mumbled in sudden realization, and pulled out of my mouth. I gasped and coughed, enjoying a few deep breaths of fresh air. Yet a growing part of me had started to like the taste of his cock and the precum sliding down the back of my throat.

He left me on my knees and went into his bedroom for a moment. I knew this was my last chance to get away, now that I still could. I glanced at the door, but remained on my knees.

Swallowing hard, I savored the taste of him and resigned myself to this fate.

Regret immediately took over when he returned, a pair of fluffy handcuffs dangling from his finger.

He pulled me to my feet and turned me around, holding my right wrist effortlessly against the small of my back, keeping me in check with ease. My knees felt weak and I moaned a little when I heard and felt the cuff lock around my wrist.

"I knew you'd like that," he groaned into my ear as he slowly moved my other wrist to my back. "You're just like all the other whores."

He waited a few seconds, letting me struggle instinctively a little, before firmly pressing my wrist against my back almost painfully. I yelped in pain but he just shushed me, and snapped the cuff around my wrist tightly.

I had never used cuffs like this before and the fact that this stranger, this thug, was using them on me filled me with anxiety and arousal at the same time. It felt so completely wrong, and so terribly frightening to be at his mercy, but my legs nearly buckled when I felt his cock against my bare thigh.

With one hand he held me pinned against the wall by my wrists, while the other guided the tip of his cock over my slit. I gasped and spread my legs further subconsciously, and he chuckled behind me.

"God, you're such a fucking whore," he whispered, and the fact that this thug was talking down on me turned me on so much more than it should.

I felt my lips part slightly for his cock and he ran the tip of his dick up and down my slit, teasing me without penetrating me. When I felt his precum stick to my lips I begged him to take me, before even realizing I said it out loud.

"What was that, slut?" He asked, pressing me up against the wall and holding his dick just against my pussy.

I didn't want to actually give in, but by god was he turning me on so much. I resisted for a few seconds but when he pressed just the tip of his cock inside me I couldn't hold out anymore.

"Please," I begged him, my voice trembling. "Please fuck my pussy!"

He pulled away and slapped my ass, hard, and I yelped. The stinging sensation washed through my body in an instant, yet left me wanting more. I arched my back to present myself to him, and he slapped me again on the other cheek.

But to my surprise, he stepped back. Before I could react he shoved me towards the bedroom and roughly threw me on the bed, face down. The bed squeaked as he climbed on, and I gasped as he lowered down on top of me, pinning me onto the sheets beneath his large body.

One arm wrapped around my neck, holding me tight, and his other hand went down to rub my needy pussy. He plunged his fingers inside my wet hole and fingered me frantically, but pulled out after only a moment.

"I'm not going to fuck your pussy," Biggie whispered. My eyes shot wide open as he gently ran his wet fingers around my asshole, and I started struggling wildly against him, even though I knew it was futile.

"No, no, please no," I pleaded, but his fingers started pressing against my sphincter insistently. "Not there, god no!"

"Shut up," he mumbled, holding me down with absolute ease. "Relax, I will go easy on you, if you submit."

I struggled a little more but he didn't stop pressing against my asshole. He waited until I gave in and after a minute or two I forced my body to stop squirming and relax. He groaned and I felt his breath on my neck when my asshole relaxed just enough to let a finger slip inside me. It felt so dirty, so wrong, but I knew this was going to happen, and I just had to let him take me.

I closed my eyes and held my breath as he slowly but surely started fingering my ass, the uncomfortable penetration making way for growing pleasure with every thrust.

By the time I was getting used to it he stopped, leaving me with an unusual, empty feeling. I almost begged him to continue, but those feelings disappeared the moment I felt his cockhead rest on my asshole.

Again I struggled instinctively, but he held me down easily until I gave in again, all the while jerking his immense shaft. I yelped when a drop of precum landed on my rosebud and right then he started pushing against my ass slightly. I moaned and begged him not to but I knew better than to resist, and once more forced my sphincter to relax.

It felt like he was pushing his entire arm up my ass, but I could feel it was just the tip of his cock worming its way inside. I had to consciously take a breath to keep myself from fainting, and my hands gripped the bed sheets so hard my knuckles turned pale white.

After a few inches he paused, and my whole body finally relaxed again. The slightest of movement of his cock felt uncomfortable so I tried to remain still, but he still moved in and out ever so slightly.

When he resumed his assault on my ass I almost blacked out. He pushed down firmly, shoving inch after aching inch up my ass in one, continuous motion. I couldn't even speak up to beg him to slow down.

By the time he bottomed out inside me I could swear he was halfway through my body, and I never felt so degraded, used and slutty. I could barely breathe properly and I was seeing spots in front of my eyes.

Then he started pulling out, replacing the uncomfortable feeling of penetration with an equally uncomfortable emptiness. I pushed my ass back a little, wanting to keep his cock inside me, but he pulled back more and more until just a few inches were still inside me.