Party 911

"People are coming over tonight," my sister Vanessa hissed threateningly.

I knew why the statement came across so venomously. Vanessa was twenty, two years my senior, and living at home again. She was supposed to be the responsible one while my parents were away. I had been grounded for staying out too late on the night of my high school graduation. Not to mention, getting a nasty speeding ticket trying to get home faster.

My mom and dad had enlisted her to watch me and to keep the rules. They were paying her to watch me! And now she was throwing a party, which undoubtedly would be blamed on me should anything go wrong. Vanessa had been a seeming angel growing up, but had always kept her pitchfork and horns ready for when my parents weren't watching.

"You really shouldn't," I said haughtily. "Mom and Dad said no parties."

"They said to make sure you didn't go to any parties. They said nothing about me."

"They said no parties. Period. That means you too," I taunted.

"Whatever. Its just the girls. Not even a real party." Vanessa's tone told me that it wasn't as simple as that.

"You know what they said about alcohol in the house," I pushed.

The look of anger on her face told me that I had hit the nail on the head. I put my hands on my hips and smiled victoriously.

"What would they say if they knew you were throwing a party, and were drinking underage."

"They won't know, because you won't tell them."

"How do you know I won't," I fired back.

"Because I'll kill you if you do," she had a look in her eye that told me she meant business. But being a committed younger sister I didn't give up.

"Well, if I see any alcohol, I'll definitely have to tell them. I just don't know how I'd handle being around that kind of peer pressure."

"You little cunt. If you so much as press a button on the phone tonight, I'll see that you regret it."

"That all depends on you now doesn't it." I turned happily away from her, sashaying happily from the room.

I could practically hear her blood boiling behind me. Wisely, she didn't push the issue. I headed for my room and entertained myself on Facebook and MySpace for a while. A couple of hours later, I heard the sound of people arriving downstairs. I crept onto the landing and peeked down to the kitchen. I could see strappy sandals and flip flops galore. It seemed to be an all girl affair, as Vanessa had promised. Their voices were loud and energetic, and they seemed to be having a good time. Privately, I hoped that the alcohol would come soon. The few hours alone had given me a brilliant idea. I waited and bided my time.

It wouldn't take long for the music to be cranked up, and the giggles and behavior to get a little more wild. When they moved into the family room, I snuck further down the stairs and confirmed my suspicions. There was a bunch of alcohol- beer, wine, liquor, and mixers spread across the kitchen table and counters. I couldn't believe the twelve girls I had counted were planning on consuming that much.

As the party continued, I grabbed the house phone and returned to my bedroom door.

Nervously excited, I dialed. 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency," a female voice on the other end of the line inquired.

"I need the police," I whispered into the handset. "There's a really noisy party next door. I see a lot of young kids drinking and making a ruckus."

"A party? Do you know any of the participants?"

"Just the neighbor's daughter. I think she's only twenty."

"What's your name ma'am."

"Mrs. Rusher," I replied, remembering the name of my elderly neighbor. I figured Vanessa would probably buy it that she had called on her.

"Mrs. Rusher? What's your address?"

"2-1-0 First Avenue South. Kent."

"Thank you Mrs. Rusher. We'll send some officers over."

"Thanks," I practically yelled. I was so excited. I had my sister trapped.

The next half hour was spent peeking through the blinds. Every car that passed by caused my heart to leap a little. I was certain it would be the cops! Finally, a long dark navy sedan crept to a stop in front of the house. Its lights were off, but the profile was unmistakable. They were finally here! I watched as two heavier set men stepped from the car. The badges on their chest glinted in the street lights. My excitement grew as another marked vehicle pulled up behind it. Another two uniformed officers stepped out. Lastly, a third vehicle arrived, this one a large SUV with a dozen additional antennas and an unusual light array on the front. Six cops! This was going to be so good! Vanessa was dead!

Things started going sideways almost immediately. I watched as the two officers who had arrived first walked around Mrs. Rusher's little white picket fence and up her driveway. The other four stood by their vehicles, watching our house. I knew that the bay windows would show the party going on in the interior. Why wouldn't they act! After about ten minutes, the two officers returned and there was a brief meeting by the cars. I watched as one of them relayed something to the station through a shoulder mounted radio. I didn't think it was going well. Mrs. Rusher would have undoubtedly not called- she was very hard of hearing and would never have noticed the goings on here. Just when I thought my plan was doomed, the officers began to climb our driveway. I watched as two of them crossed around the side of the house, their flashlights sweeping this way and that.

For a few minutes I could see the legs and feet of four of them as they stood at the door. I understood that they were waiting for the sliding glass door to be covered by the others. I crept back out onto the landing and lay there, watching for the action to start. In my hurry to catch site of my orchestration coming together, I didn't realize that Vanessa had gone up to her room to retrieve something. Now she was behind me, and she would definitely figure it out once the cops burst in.

"Stay up here," she threatened as she passed me. "Don't you dare disrupt me or embarrass me in any way. Got it?"

"Okay," I answered meekly. She already seemed buzzed, her face slightly flushed and her body relying on the railing.

As her sandals danced down the stairs, I heard a loud booming knock from the front door. It was a go!

I heard Vanessa dart around her friends, hurriedly whispering for them to hide the alcohol as she opened the door.

Immediately one of her friends killed the music. From the landing I couldn't see exactly what was going on, so I crept down a few more steps and hugged the wall. All six of the officers were now in the house, two blocking off the retreat through the back yard and the other four spreading around the front of the living room and entry. All were gruff looking men. A few of them were rather intimidating in their fitness, but the other three were just big blocky slobs. I felt so much excitement. Vanessa looked down right petrified as the officers examined the room and quickly found the stashes of alcohol.

"Alright, we need to see some ID, all of you!"

A couple of the girls produced their driver's licenses right away. Others weakly said they had forgotten them. One of the officers sorted the two apart. Those with ID on the couch, those without against the entertainment center.

As the officers examined the identification cards, he called out the ages.

"19. 19. 20. 20. 20. 19. 20. Seven underage. Blow into the mouthpiece please." He held a white plastic looking thing out towards the first of the underage girls. I could see tears starting to fall from several of their faces. Busted, I screamed inwardly, feeling quite the winner.

One by one, the girls failed their breathalyzer tests. Vanessa was the last one to blow, and I could tell from the soft shudder of her body that she too had failed. I started feeling a little guilty when I looked to the ID less girls. One of the officers had them turn and put their hands on the wall or the edge of the entertainment unit and spread their legs. Their big greasy hands were 'patting them down', although I could not imagine for what. Their skirts were too short or their jeans too tight. They couldn't hide anything. I saw a few of the girls protest as their hands got very personal.

Another of the officers had discovered the purse stash on the counter and had rummaged through them. Soon the five missing IDs were found and the girls' ages confirmed. That didn't stop the searches. Soon the other girls were up on the wall, also being patted down and felt up. Vanessa was made to lean on the back of the couch. One of the more muscular officers started at her bare ankles and ran them over the length of her legs to the edge of her mini. I watched horrified as he slipped his hands beneath the material. Vanessa' skirt rose up as his hands did. For thirty seconds I watched as his hands molested her. I wasn't sure of the exact actions but it looked like he was fingering her. I could see that Vanessa's skin was flushed red and she was frozen still. After the girls had received similar treatments from the officers, they finally abandoned their molestations.

"Here's the deal ladies. I need you all to remain with your hands placed in front of you. We're getting some extra sets of cuffs and have back up on the way. Since there isn't anyone here we can turn you over to, you're going downtown and will be booked for possession and drinking," the officer who had groped my sister explained loudly.

I saw all of the girls react vehemently, begging and pleading to be let off, just this once. As the crescendo of pleas of desperation grew, the officers all glanced from one to another. I watched as a grin grew across each of their faces. Some of the girls were offering money to buy there way out.

"Quiet down," shouted the big one again. "This is it. Bribing an officer of the peace is a federal offense. You just all added a felony to your list of misdoings here. That's a big deal."

All of the girls were suddenly silent, a few of them sinking to the floor in shock and fear. This was definitely not what I had intended.

"However," he continued. "We might be able to work something out."

At that, I saw the young females' heads snap back up, and I found that I was a little disappointed that they were going to get off.

"All of you in a line," he ordered, pointing to the floor of the living room. The girls obeyed instantly, Vanessa even hopping the couch to get in position.

"Take off your clothes," his bellowing instruction continued. Three of the girls started undressing, seeming to have already understood the deal that was being made. But Vanessa didn't seem too interested.

"Fuck you," she suddenly blurted. "That's a crime!"

The big man was suddenly on her, his hand pinching her chin cruelly as he practically lifted her from the floor.

"Listen bitch. You got yourself into this mess, and you better learn to get yourself out. We're going to do what we're going to do. Its just easier on you if you're obedient."

I was wide eyed, not believing the drama that was playing before me.

"I'll fucking report you all," my sister weakly threatened.

"And no one will believe you," he corrected. "Six officers, a bunch of lying underage drinkers. You're parents will know you're just covering up for yourselves. If you want to go that route, we file the police report and haul you off now. That what you all want?!"

Eleven of the girls were now undressing, most stopping as they reached their undergarments. Vanessa was stoically still for just a second, but wisely thought better of it. Her t-shirt was quickly pulled over her head, and her skirt was dropped to the floor. She kicked it aside and glared maliciously back at him.

"We didn't say undress part of the way," the officer commanded as he began to pace the line of his captive audience. He grabbed one girl's bra and ripped it right off her chest. "Bras and panties, ladies, bras and panties."

Behind him, the row of officers was grinning and giving out lewd cat calls. A few were grabbing their crotches suggestively.

I watched in horror as the girls shed the remaining, skimpy, articles of clothing. Soon their bare bottoms were faced my direction, their hands coiled protectively around their lithe bodies.

The officer in charge paced the line once more, eying his whimpering prisoners.

"Hands by your sides," he instructed. Slowly, the girls' hands fell, most of them now staring intently at the floor as they displayed their nudity to men for the first time.

As he paced, he began to touch. He'd take one girl's breast in his hand and lift and squeeze, testing her size and firmness. Another girl would have her nipple pinched, a little squeal escaping from her lips as he crushed it between his fingers.

"Legs apart," he ordered next. "Spread 'em!"

One by one, my sister's friends parted their legs, some standing with feet at shoulder width and others narrower. He didn't like that much. I heard an odd clicking noise and realized he had pulled his baton from his belt. There was a redhead at the front of the line who was the first to understand how harrowing this experience would be.

"Open up your mouth. Give my stick some good head, bitch," he instructed as he held the baton before her lips. Nervously, the girl leaned in, her lips barely parting to take the stick into her mouth. When she didn't move further, he grabbed her auburn locks and forced her to take it deep into her throat. He began to pump her head on the stick. "This will be a good lesson for you. Men don't like having to do the work."

As she continued to 'practice' on the baton, he gave instruction. When he was satisfied with his pupil's learning he pulled it from her mouth, leaving the blunt weapon covered in her saliva.

A blond girl was next in line and next on his list of targets.

"You ever fucked a man," he taunted as he moved to her.

She shook her head affirmatively. Yes, she'd had sex.

"Answer with a yes, sir, or a no, sir, bitch."

"Yes, sir," she timidly affirmed.

"Good then this won't hurt so bad!" Taking the crossbar of the baton he dropped it between her spread legs and forced it up into her snatch.

"OWWW! NO, PLEASE!" The girl yelled as her friend's saliva was the only lubricant assisting the penetration of the baton in her cunt. Over a foot of the thing seemed to be buried in her by the time the officer stopped pushing and the girl was practically scratching the skin off her thighs as he held it there.

"Hurting yourself ain't going to make this better. Lay back on the couch," he ordered further. As the girl settled on the couch, baton still firmly clutched in her cunt, he demanded that she pull her legs up. As her legs rose in the air, she exposed her most intimate areas to a room full of people. I could see her body turn red with embarrassment as she was put on display. The officer grabbed the handle of the baton and began to pump it into her channel, using it like a large cock. The blond's stomach tensed with every shove, with every push. Not satisfied with her performance, the officer angrily spanked her exposed ass cheeks.

"Now bitch, you better make the best of this. That goes for all of you. I'd hate to have to give anyone stitches where they don't want them. Now blondie, I want you to play with your clit and make sure you do it properly. I can tell. You," he yelled indicating a dusty shorter brunette who had stood on the left of the blond. "C'mere!"

The brunette was a little more curvy for her size then the other college aged girls in the room. But she was quick and was standing where the officer indicated quickly. She was rewarded by the clutch of his large palms over her tits and then the shove of his fingers between her thighs.

"This one is actually wet!" I watched as the girl flushed at the announcement, but she did not try to deny it. The officer pushed her thighs apart further and rapidly fingered her with two digits. She was trembling by the time he withdrew them from her snatch. Sure enough, even I could see the coating on the digits. All of the other cops gave a sarcastic round of applause at the discovery.

I could see that the girl was very ashamed, and her anxiety would only be complicated. The officer who had taken charge now forced her to her knees before the blond girl.

"I want you to lick her asshole while she's playing with her clit. And take care of that baton, make sure its giving her a good fucking. You got me?"

The brunette didn't hesitate, seeming to want to move on from her own arousal. I watched as her head dipped beneath the imposing black shape of the baton. The blond whimpered at the first touch of the tongue to her asshole, and whimpered again as the brunette began to pump the baton into her snatch. The blond's fingers were still toying with her clit, sliding over her pink folds and pinching the hidden nub there. The noises coming from her pussy were now loud enough to be heard by everyone. The commanding officer helpfully informed everyone that the sounds they were hearing was her arousal. But from what I could see of her body's movement, she was in her own world as she likely was being tongued for the first time.

Satisfied that his first two pupils were doing so well, the officer moved back to the red head. I could tell that she was nervous, now feeling like she had gotten off easily.

"Thomas, front and center." One of the younger, more physically fit officers stepped out of line. "I think some Irish pussy is on the menu, don't you?"

"Yesss, sirrr," the man drew out as he moved towards the helpless redhead.

He pushed her back to the couch, beside the reclining blond and her increasingly amorous partner. For several seconds he groped her chest and forced her to kiss him. Following his leader's instruction, he pushed her thighs open and dropped down to her pussy. Her red hair seemed to glow lightly around the V of her thighs and I saw him give a vicious smile as he leaned in.

Watching the girl's face, he began to lick and probe her folds with his tongue. He focused first on spreading his saliva over the whole of her labia. All of her folds were soon coated with his fluid. Then, he began to strum his tongue over her clit, probing underneath its covering until it was directly stimulating her hardened pleasure center.

Everyone watched the couch display; even a few of the girls turned their heads to examine the increasing eroticism. I was worried that my presence might be discovered on the stairs, but the scene drew everyone's undivided attention.

I could feel my own arousal growing, but I made no move, despite the warming embers within my cotton panties. Somehow, it seemed like my part in this thing would be more perverse, if I got off on it. So I squirmed on the carpeted surface of the stairs, trying to keep my attention on my sister and her friends.

Thomas was apparently good at what he was doing. The redhead had hooked her legs behind his head, without any instruction. She was now actively grinding her pussy on his face, working herself off. Behind them a few of the cops were freeing their hard cocks. It was my first time seeing one, outside of a science book. And the images of an illustrated profile of a flaccid penis were nothing like the odd protrusions that were engulfed in the policemen's hands.

But the lead officer was far from done. He moved back to his group of submissive prisoners.

"Alright, this is your house, isn't it?" He had selected Vanessa as his next target.

"Yeah," she answered defiantly. She was trying to appear confident, in command, even when she had no say in what occurred.

"The correct answer was yes, sir. Do you understand?"

"Sure," came her curt reply. I winced, despite the excitement that built as my sister obviously was about committ proverbial suicide.

His hand had a fistful of her hair before she could react and she was forced face first into the couch on the other side of the blonde girl who was increasingly enjoying her ordeal. I got the feeling that Vanessa was not going to be treated too similarly. I had to suppress a gasp as he began to rain slaps down on her ass. The assault was torrential, sudden, vicious. I was certain that no others would dare to disobey him after witnessing it.