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Old 10-02-2008, 04:50 AM   #1
knightwriter
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Default Bad Cop Worse Cop

DISCLAIMER: Sometimes I like a long, slow beginning to get me in the mood. I craving such a thing when I wrote this. If you prefer less preamble, or you're the impatient type, scroll down looking for the words "START HERE" in caps.

I'm a new writer here and would love any genuine feedback that is offered. If you're just trying to increase your post number then dont waste your time or my time on this story.

---
Kyla's world was a flurry of activity. She goaded her silver Toyota Camry through traffic, darting from lane to lane anytime an opening presented itself in an attempt to shave a few more seconds off of her route. She routinely cut off other cars and avoided several near accidents more because of luck than because of actual driving skill. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the car in front of her and her rearview mirror, which was angled so that she could see her own face while she finished applying the last touches of her lipstick and eyeliner.

Because her mirror was aimed at her own face, she heard the police siren before she saw the flashing red and blue lights behind her. Kyla's heart fluttered in her chest. She was trying to make it to a job interview on time and was already cutting it close which is why she was driving erratically in the first place. Getting pulled over was certain to make her late.

There was still hope. Maybe the cop was just trying to get through traffic. Kyla pulled her Camry over to the side of the road hoping that he would go right past her on his way to break up a bank robbery or something. Her heart sank as the police cruiser slowed down with her, pulling in behind her car. The cop turned his siren off but kept his lights on. Kyla tried to ignore the gawking faces of other motorists as they passed by. Keeping her hands well below the line of her window she surreptitiously put the cap back on her lipstick and dropped it into her purse.

Kyla watched the cop in her left side mirror as he approached her driver’s side window. He was young and fit, not like some of the grotesquely obese swine she'd seen in a badge and uniform before. The cop was dressed in the light browns that the county sheriff's department wore. He was wearing mirrored sunglasses and had short brown hair. Kyla looked away from the left driver’s side mirror as he approached not wanting to make it obvious that she was looking at him. She bit nervously at her lower lip as she saw his form approach her window.

He knocked gently on the glass and Kyla pressed the button to lower the window but nothing happened. She tried it again and stared stupidly at the button for a split second before turning the key in the ignition enough to activate the accessories then pressed the button again. This time it lowered. The cool morning air permeated Kyla's car. The gasoline and asphalt smells of the road pervaded her nostrils. She could hear the dull liquid roar of each car as it passed her on the street.

"License, registration and proof of insurance," said the cop in a flat, monotone voice. Kyla reached for her purse, pulled out her wallet, and showed the cop her license.

"Please take the license out of the wallet," he said. She gripped the license between two fingers, her nails, painted cherry red, pressed against the plastic card as she pulled it from its sleeve. She handed the license to the cop and then found her insurance and registration in the bottom of her glove compartment and handed them over as well.
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Old 10-02-2008, 04:50 AM   #2
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The cop gave them a cursory look and then said, "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"Um, speeding?" Kyla guessed, she felt like her heart was a small bird fluttering against the bottom of her throat, fighting hard to escape through her mouth.

"I've been watching you since James Street," said the cop, "You changed lanes four times without signaling, cut off other motorists, and were messing with your lipstick the whole time you were doing it."

"I'm sorry," she said automatically.

He pointed at her chest, "you're also not wearing a seatbelt."

"I'm sorry," she said again. Normally Kyla was fanatical about putting on her seat belt, but she hadn't worn it on purpose because she didn't want to wrinkle her blouse before the interview. She pulled the belt across her now, as if it would appease the cop, then smoothed her dark gray skirt against her lap. She saw the time on her dashboard and knew she still had a chance to make it to her interview. She felt a surge of urgency pressing against her thoughts. Incoming draft from the cars outside blew some of her hair out of place. Self consciously she brushed her long blonde hair back into place with both hands.

The cop walked back to his cruiser with all of her documentation in hand. Kyla adjusted her rearview mirror so that she could see him. She told herself that by moving the mirror into the proper position it would somehow compensate for her earlier indiscretion with applying her makeup while driving. She looked at the time nervously. She only had a few minutes left but if she left right now she could still make it. She stared at the cop, hoping he would come back to her window. As if on command, the cop got out of his car and walked over to her window again.

"Miss," said the officer, and this time Kyla thought he sounded irritated. "Did you know that you're license is suspended?"

"Yes," she said, and she felt hot and flush. "I mean, no. I mean, it was," she stammered. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Time was slipping away and it was making it harder for her to focus. "It was suspended for one year but I got back like four months ago," she explained.

"The computer says your license is suspended right now. What was it suspended for?" asked the sheriff.

"DUI," she said nervously. "But I swear, it was only suspended for a year. I got it back four months ago."
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Old 10-02-2008, 04:51 AM   #3
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"Have you been drinking this morning?" he asked.

"No," she protested, "I'm just trying to make it to a job interview," she tried to explain in desperation.

The sheriff cut her off with, "is that why you were serving in and out through traffic?"

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. Her face felt hot, and she fought hard to keep tears from coming.

The sheriff took a step back and ordered, "get out of the car miss." Kyla paused for a moment in disbelief.

"Now," he said, raising his voice. Kyla complied, opening the door and stepping out. She watched helplessly as cars continued to pass her by. She saw condescending expressions in those cars, watching her and judging her as they fleetingly came in and out of her life, casually dismissing her as a bad girl, a screw up, a common criminal.

Kyla was wearing high heels, a dark gray wrap around skirt, and a dressy white blouse with short sleeves. She was quickly cold in the morning air, and the breeze caused by the passing cars tossed her long straight hair like banners on battle ramparts. But it didn't matter now, she thought bitterly. She would never make the interview in time.

"Walk on the line for me," said the sheriff, pointing to the white line in front of her Camry that separated the main road from the shoulder. Kyla saw her own blue eyes flash uncertainly at him in his mirrored sunglasses. He held his hands at his hips, impassively watching her.

She stepped in front of her car and tried to walk, one foot in front of the other, on the painted white line in the road. Truth be told, she had never tried this before in high heels and stumbled slightly as she walked.

"Alright alright," said the sheriff, waving her back to her car. Kyla brushed her hair out of her face with her hand and walked back over to him.

"Put your hands on the hood," he said. It was an order a cop might give to those fringe people, not her. But she could see he wasn't kidding. In mere moments she had gone from a respectable citizen to one of the bad guys. She put both of her hands on the hood of her car, which was still warm. She saw out of the corner of her eye that cars continued to pass her. The humiliation was too much. Without quite meaning to, she started to cry. Her face was flush, first she started to sniffle, and then hot tears began streaming down her face.
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Old 10-02-2008, 04:51 AM   #4
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Standing behind her, the sheriff grabbed one of her arms and pulled it back behind her back. She felt the warm, hard metal of the handcuffs as it ratcheted snugly down on her wrist. He was going to cuff her which could only mean she was under arrest. More tears flowed freely. She was balling now. She could hear her own pathetic involuntary mewling.

The cop brought her other arm behind her back and cuffed her wrists together. The handcuffs were snug and the position of her arms was uncomfortable but neither caused her pain. Holding her upper arm, the cop walked her to his car where he opened the back passenger door. Kyla found her eyes drawn to the flashing rotating lights on top of the car. Up close she could see that they were white lights, spinning, shining through blue and red colored plastic. It wasn't the lights that were red and blue; it was the plastic around them.

The cop put her in the back seat and then closed the door. The vinyl was cold like water, even through the back of her shirt and through her skirt. From the back seat, Kyla watched as the cop took her purse out of her car. He closed her car door, and he had her keys in his hand. She recognized her blue and white bottle opener on the chain. He got into the front seat of the police cruiser, set her purse down on the front seat next to him and picked up the handset to his radio.

"One able four," he said, into the radio.

"Copy," said a mechanically distorted voice on the other end.

"Dispatch a tow for a silver 04 Toyota Camry on Fourth and Stewart," said the Sheriff. "I am plus one and heading back to east precinct," he said.
;
"Acknowledged one able four," said the other voice. "Tow truck is on the way." The cop hung the hand microphone back onto the dash radio.

"You're towing my car?" Kyla asked. She had stopped crying now but her face felt flush and she could feel the saltiness of the dried tears caked onto her face.

"You just sit tight and keep your mouth shut," said the cop. Kyla complied.

Kyla looked at her Camry as the police cruiser pulled into traffic. She felt like she was abandoning it. The cop was silent as he drove, and so was his radio. The entire morning was so surreal Kyla could almost pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary and she was taking a cab ride. Except that her wrists were handcuffed behind her.
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Old 10-02-2008, 04:52 AM   #5
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The backseat of the car was a slick blue vinyl material. Every time the cruiser turned Kyla had to fight from sliding around. Without a seatbelt, and with her hands cuffed behind her, it was surprisingly challenging to stay in one place. Kyla wasn't sure if the car were to make a sudden turn if she could even stay in a seated position.

But the ride was gentle, and soon the car pulled into a basement filled with some other police cars and other ordinary cars which Kyla thought might be unmarked or undercover cars. The sheriff parked the cruiser, got out, and helped Kyla out of the back seat.

"Can I talk now?" Kyla asked, her small voice sounding tinny and hollow in the garage. The cop didn't answer her. He walked her to a door which led into a surprisingly well lit hallway. Kyla noticed that he had her purse in his other hand.

"Am I under arrest?" she asked. The cop didn't answer. Instead he walked over to a counter space on the side, set her purse on the counter, and picked up a book of some kind. The cop led her to a small room with a two chairs and a small table. There were no windows in the room, and no other doors other than the one Kyla came in through. One side of the room had a large mirror on it. Kyla recognized this type of room. It was an interrogation room.
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Old 10-02-2008, 04:54 AM   #6
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Okay, so for those who dont like literary foreplay, START HERE. To catch you up our victim, Kyla, has been arrested by an unsavory young cop. He has just taken her down to a police station and now has her alone in an interrogation roomm.

---

The cop set the book onto the table and said “read it out loud,” pointing at the title. Kyla looked at the cop in confusion, then back to the book.

“King County Sheriff’s Department, Standard Police procedure,” she read. The cop opened the book to a pre-marked page and pointed at a passage.

“Read it out loud,” he said again. Kyla looked at the package.

“When executing a search on a female by a male officer, always attempt to locate a female officer to search a female first. If no female officer is available, then a search by a male officer is permissible.” Kyla’s breathing became shallow and faster. She looked at the cop, not sure what the point of this exercise was. He turned the page and pointed to another highlighted section. He gestured for her to read it as well. “When searching the breast area,” she read, feeling a welt of fear rise in her throat, “the entire support of the bra must be checked. The bra must also be pulled away from the breasts so that any weapons present will drop to the waistband.” She swallowed, and looked at the cop.

“Finish it,” he said. Kyla heard the tremor in her voice as she read. Couldn’t the cop tell that she was scared and could barely even go on?

“The genital area must also be searched to assure that a weapon has not been concealed,” she read. Kyla looked back at the sheriff.

“I need to search you for weapons,” he said. “There are no female officers present.” He looked around. “In fact, there are no officers around at all.”

Kyla shook her head, whimpering, “I don’t have any weapons on me,” she mewled. She felt flush again, and fought valiantly to keep from crying. The cop reached up with both hands and gently grabbed her breasts through her shirt. Kyla instinctively pulled away from him.

“Aren’t you in enough trouble?” asked the cop. “If you cooperate you might get off with just a fine. If you add resisting arrest to your record you’re looking at six months, minimum.” He reached for her again, and this time Kyla did not back away.

The officer fondled her breasts through her blouse for several long moments, and Kyla felt a tear running down alongside her nose. She heard her incoherent, soft whining. He rubbed his thumbs against where he guessed her nipples were then brought his hands up to her collar. The cop began to unbutton her blouse. Kyla started to protest but before her words were a squeak out of her mouth the cop stopped her.

“I have to search your bra for weapons,” he reminded her. “You read it yourself in the manual.” Partly because he was right, and partly because she didn’t have a choice, Kyla said nothing and merely lowered her head in shame. Her long blonde hair fell over her face and for some reason the little anonymity it granted her made her feel a shade better. The cop unbuttoned her blouse all the way down to the bottom, and then pulled the bottom out where it was tucked into her skirt. The cop opened her blouse and then pulled it down her arms as much as he could with her hands cuffed behind her back, baring her shoulders. Kyla felt the air on her naked stomach, sides, and shoulders. She continued to look down, avoiding the cop’s gaze.

The cop cupped her breasts with his hands again, squeezed them a bit more firmly through her bra, then moved his fingers to the front opening clasp of the garment. He was well practiced and had the clasp open in moments then he pulled the cups off her breasts, letting them fall heavy and free. The cop fondled both of her breasts with his bare hands, lifting them as he massaged them, his fingers finally centering on her nipples which he teased with lazy twirls.

Kyla was terrified. She could hardly breathe. She risked a look at him and saw him lick his lips with a vile flash of his pink tongue. She also caught a glimpse of her own terrified reflection in his sunglasses.

---

(let me know what you think, I could be encouraged to continue, only serious reviewers need apply)
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Old 10-02-2008, 07:30 AM   #7
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Please carry on don't let us stop you!
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Old 10-02-2008, 11:33 PM   #8
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The prologue was EXCELLENT.


Last edited by Trill; 10-02-2008 at 11:36 PM. Reason: fixed pic
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