Bitch Cop Traffic Stop

I Fought The Law, and We Both Won...Sort Of...

(c)2012 Daniel deLaire

It's about 8:30 on a Thursday morning, and I am driving along the back roads, away from the highway with the others making their way to wherever it is they're off to. Most of them are headed to work. I am not. I work long, hard nights at the Kwik Mart near my house so my day, thankfully, is over. My relief came early, at 6:30, and she let me start my weekend early. Three nights off. Well needed. My job sucks, but it is my own damn fault. I dropped out of high school and got myself arrested shortly after my 18th birthday, so I have a criminal record. These drives really help me to clear my head and feel better about...

WHOOP!

Certainly not about those blue and red lights behind me. I turn on my clicker and pull into the strip mall that was just ahead. I take the first parking space I see, and the police car parks behind me, so that I am blocked in.

I get my wallet out and retrieve my registration from my little storage compartment just below the ashtray and wait for the cop to get out of the car. It's a couple of minutes just sitting there in my parked car with a police cruiser behind me, and a small group of shoppers has started to gather on the sidewalk to watch.

Finally the driver door on the police car opens and the police officer steps out of the car and starts walking to mine. She has medium curly brown hair, which she did up in a ponytail. She looks about 35, and has an olive complexion. I roll down my window.

"What's the problem officer?"

"License and registration, sir", she replied in a business-like tone.

I handed her my driver's license and registration card.

"Step out of the vehicle, please."

"What? Why?"

"Just step out of the vehicle, sir"

She opened my car door from the outside and I started to get out of my car.

"Hands where I can see 'em"

I put my hands up a little, and she grabbed me by the elbow. She led me over near the rear of her squad car. I have to admit that I was a little insulted at the way she just grabbed me, but I was also starting to get turned on. I have to admit, I was kind of hoping for this.

"Just go ahead and stand there. You can put your hands down. I stopped you because you were swerving a little back there"

"I was?" I asked, surprised. "Well, I do work nights, I'm probably just tired. I'm sorry"

By now a larger crowd had gathered, mostly middle aged and older women shopping for clothes and the like. I could hear a few giggles from the crowd, and I saw a couple women actually filming the event on their cell phones. My face literally felt like it was burning from the embarrassment of being seen by so many people, and my guts were churning. What I wasn't expecting was that having so many people, particularly the women, amused at my predicament.

"Also" she continued, "both you and your car smell very strongly of beer"

Now I knew I was done. I hadn't been drinking, but I do mop up a lot of beer spills while stocking the cooler. I remembered that I had picked up a case of Olde English that was leaking, and I must have gotten it all over myself.

"How much have you had to drink?"

I have to admit, this is the moment I was waiting for. My face was still burning with embarrassment. There was still a knot in my stomach. My heart was ready to pound itself out of my chest. But there was also a feeling that I only felt a few times before in my life. I was both terrified and thrilled. I remember hoping that she'd sense the terror in me and not the thrill.

"I'm going to assume, by your silence, that you've had plenty. I am not going to bother with the sobriety tests because I think you'll fall flat on your face. At this point I'm going to go ahead and place you under arrest for driving while intoxicated. What I'm going to need you to do now is turn around and face the car."

So I turned around leaned against the side of the truck, and kind of hung my hands at my side, waiting for her to pull them behind me. I could hear some of the women from the crowd cackling to themselves and commenting to one another that I was getting arrested.

"You need to stand back just a bit and put your hands right here on the trunk"

I could feel her ample breasts press against me when she grabbed my forearms to position my hands correctly on the trunk. She was wearing pink nail polish. It looked good against her skin tone. She wore the same expensive perfume that my girlfriend's mother wore. She backed off and pulled my hips back into her stomach. Then she kicked my legs apart.

"Do you have anything in your pockets that I can get poked, prodded, or cut on?"

"No, ma'am"

"Any drugs or anything else you don't want me to know about? Better you tell me now than I find it on you"

"No, ma'am. Nothing"

I indeed had nothing on me except the "concealed weapon" in my crotch, which was certainly not well concealed. She started at my shoulders and upper arms, moving down my chest and stomach, alternating with my back. She went briskly down each leg and spend a little extra time on my ankles. She Moved her hands over my bottom, and then in and out of my back pockets, pulling them out as she went. She spends a little extra time on my crotch, which was by this time, as hard as a lead pipe.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she deadpanned quietly to me. "I know just how to take care of you," she whispered, almost purring, seductively, but ominously.

She put her hands in my front pockets to search them, and spend a little extra time massaging my shaft. I couldn't believe what she was doing to me! I forgot about all of the other people and just allowed myself to enjoy it, as she worked me up to near ejaculation.

"Getting close, lover?" she whispered. I nodded that I was.

"Then that's all you're getting," she said in her normal, business-like tone, as she pulled my pockets out.

"You need to put your hands behind your back, sicko."

So I started to put my hands behind my back, She grabbed my wrists and twisted my arms around behind me, backs of my hands together. She grabbed me by the thumbs and spun me around toward the crowd. I could her handcuff case unsnapping, and the sound of her pulling out her handcuffs.

"Face your public, freak," She said softly. Almost immediately, one of the women started laughing. Then more. I could hear one of them say while attempting to stifle laughter "Oh my God, he's got a boner" as my arresting officer started to put her handcuffs on me. The combined sensations of the laughter and jeers making my face burn and the cold steel tightening around my wrists with their signature sound were just way too much. The harder I tried to hold back, the worse it became, and as soon as steel touched my other wrist, I felt the characteristic lightheadedness as the front of my very light khaki pants filled with warm gooiness. The laughter stopped, and the gasps began. "I think he came!" one of them said.

My arresting officer seemed to take all of the time in the world tightening down and double locking my handcuffs before she took me by the elbow and led me back to the car.

After my arresting officer had double locked my handcuffs, she grabbed me firmly by the right upper arm and spun me around fast. She tightened her grip on my arm as she pulled me the five feet to the back door of her cruiser.

"Against the car. Don't move a muscle," She ordered.

I could feel the coldness of the steel of the back end of the cruiser that was going to take me to jail so much more acutely through the wetness in my pants. No sooner did the cold hit my cock than my cock retaliated against the cold, warming itself as it started to spring back into erection. I looked over to my right to see the bitch cop opening up the passenger side front door, and reaching into the back seat to unlock my door.

"Eyes forward. Don't look at me, creep"

I quickly complied and focused my gaze on the rest of the parking lot. The spectators were all around us now. Lots of "she arrested a bad man", "good enough for him", and "fucking pervert" kinds of comments were circulating through the crowd just within earshot of me.

The officer grabbed my right arm again and turned me to face her as she opened the back door of her cruiser.

"OK, time for you to go to jail. Have a seat. Oh my GOD! Already?!? Mister, you ARE sick"

My arresting officer caught sight of my fresh erection as she turned me to sit down in the bad boy seat.

"Watch your head," she said as she made sure to, ever so slightly, knock my head against the frame of the car.

"If you so much as breathe on me, I will pepper spray you. Understand, animal?"

"Yes ma'am" I replied.

I was way past embarrassment now. I had popped a boner during my arrest and came in my pants right in front of a crowd of onlookers. The prospect of going to jail was all of a sudden inviting. The seat was hard as a rock, and the back seemed to push my handcuffs hard into the small of my back and tighter around my wrists. My arresting officer grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it over me, fastening it on the other side of me. Her breasts brushed lightly against me, and I could smell her sweat fighting it out with her deodorant. The sensations did nothing to reduce the engorgement of my penis. After she finished seat belting me in, she brought her face very close to mine; so close I could smell stale cigarettes mixed with Doublemint on her breath.

"Sit tight, I'll be back in a few minutes"

"Shit" I thought to myself. "I wish she'd just hurry up and take me to jail"

I watched my bitch of an arresting officer walk back to the crowd, through them, and into an open store. Probably had to use the bathroom. In her absence, people started coming up to the car to get a closer look at the animal in the cage. And it was a cage.

There was a wire mesh partition separating the front and back seats of the car, and that had Plexiglas with a few holes drilled in it just behind it. The door windows had black bars bolted to the doorframes. The car itself smelled like sweat and steel. It was, in every way, a miniature jail on wheels. I was thankful she had left the back windows cracked.

The people that came to the car to hail my arrest and point and laugh at my nonstop boner made the ten minutes I waited seem like hours. Finally, my arresting officer emerged, shooed the onlookers away, and got into the driver's seat of the car.

Unfortunately, my humiliation was not quite over, as Officer Bitch pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and started to pack them on her hand. Now, in addition to the wet pants, the rock hard erection, and the burning that had never left my face, I desperately wanted a cigarette. And she was going to smoke one right in front of me.

"We'll be underway in a minute here. At least you're not in jail yet, right? They're going to love you in there with those cum-stained khakis."

"Please, just take me to jail"

"What's that? You want to go to jail now? Ready to be someone's punk?"

I just said nothing and looked down. She was right; guys like me don't fare well in jail.

"Nothing to say huh, tough guy? That's what I though"

Officer Bitch lit her cigarette and started the car. Some stragglers were still watching, and started clapping when she put the cruiser into gear, starting my journey to the county lock-up.

It must just have been my luck that we hit every light we passed. We were on a four lane county highway, and there was always someone waiting at the light next to us. We had the usual idiots pointing and laughing, some staring intently, others trying not to look. I even had a rough looking woman in a beat up mid-70's Firebird wink and lick her lips at me.

I had faded into my own world; it was my only defense. I listened to the sound of the road, the chatter on her police radio, the sound of the wind as it whipped across the cracked windows. My last breaths of free air for who knows how long.

I was jarred out of my trance by the car bumping along what felt like a pretty bad road. As it turned out, we weren't on the road; we were in a field. We came to a stop surrounded by some high grass, and my arresting officer put the car in park and turned off the motor. A feeling of dread instantly came over my whole body. I seriously thought I had pissed her off to the point she was going make me "try and escape". At least my boner had subsided; but my dick was the least of my worries at the moment.

"For all of the trouble you've been this morning, I really do feel sort of bad for you. You're not really ready for what they're going to do to you in jail, are you?" she said, almost sympathetically. I treaded carefully.

"Whatever the consequences, ma'am, you were right to do what you did. I broke the law and I deserve to go to jail for it." I offered.

"HA! Right" she spat. "Don't worry, I'm not going to let you dart off so I can shoot you." She said to me, in a nicer tone.

"Thank you" I breathed a sigh of relief.

"However" she stated, "I think you do owe me one from earlier, wouldn't you say? I mean, you did have an orgasm from my efforts, didn't you? I'd say you owe me one"

"Yes, ma'am, I believe I do" I was cautious, but I was starting to like where this was headed.

"I'm going to let you out of the car, and I'm going to see how you do pleasuring me orally. You're going to have to work at it, because you're going to be staying in those handcuffs. If you're a good boy, we might take your pants off. Can you be a good boy for an hour or so?"

"Yes, officer, I can do that"

"Then we have an arrangement. Understand that if you try to run or do anything funny, I will shoot you"

"Yes, ma'am" I replied.

Officer Bitch got out of the car and walked back to my door, swinging her hips and arms in a very sexy way, smiling at me. She opened the car door, unbuckled my seatbelt, and helped me out of the car.

She took a cigarette out of her pack and, without even asking, shoved the filter end into my mouth and lit it for me. I dragged deeply and heavily, so much so that I became lightheaded. That cigarette was a much-needed relief. I already had half of it smoked before she even got hers lit. The officer grabbed the cigarette out of my mouth and crushed it on the ground in front of me. It was OK, I had my nicotine rush.

"That's enough for now. If you want another, you have to earn it. You don't get cigarettes in custody, and you're still in my custody. That was a treat"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am"

"OK, the ground rules. I am Officer French. Not 'ma'am', not just 'officer'. The only other words I want to hear out of your mouth are 'Yes', 'No', and 'I'm too stupid to understand'. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Officer French" I replied obediently.

"Excellent, prisoner. I can see we're going to be friends. Is that what you want, prisoner? She asked

"Yes, Officer French" I replied.

"Well, that's too bad. You're a prisoner and a piece of meat, not a friend"

With that she took me by the right arm and lead me to the front of her cruiser, facing it, and about three feet back from it.

"On your knees, prisoner" She ordered as she took out her baton.

"Yes, Officer French" I replied as I clumsily dropped to my knees in front of the cruiser.

"Good boy. Now close your eyes. If I catch you peeking, well, you don't want that"

"Yes, Officer French" I said as I closed my eyes.

I heard the sound of her utility belt being unfastened and being placed on the hood of her cruiser. I heard her shoes come off next, and be placed on the hood. The next sound was what I wanted to hear. I heard her zipper unzipping, and her uniform pants peeling off of her muscular ass. I was beginning to get some feeling back in my penis. I was in the middle of a field, under arrest, handcuffs digging into my wrists, and my arresting officer taking her pants off right in front of me. My last trip to jail was not nearly so enjoyable.

I was pulled out of the ether by a familiar smell. Cigarette smoke. It felt as though she were blowing it in my face. Then I felt her baton gently on the back of my neck, and a sharp jerk forward. The next sensation was the feeling of short, coarse hairs, and the smell of pussy.

"Like that, prisoner? There isn't any of that in jail"

"Yes, Officer French"

"Say that you like it, prisoner!" She ordered.

"I like it, Officer French". I really did like it.

All of a sudden her pussy and baton went away, and I heard the springs on the cruiser creak.

"Open your eyes, prisoner, and come to my pussy" My arresting officer ordered.

"Yes, Officer French" I replied as I walked on my knees to Officer French's waiting pussy.

"Chow time, prisoner. Now EAT!"

I wasted no time. Officer French's pussy was already sloppy wet, and it just got wetter the more I lapped up the juices. Her pussy was unkempt, and I had to move them out of the way of her opening with my tongue.

"Dig in, prisoner. Stick your tongue deep into the woman who's arresting you. Eat my pussy, jailbird"

I stuck my tongue into the officer's pussy. I was met with a taste that I had never encountered before, and not at all sure I liked.

"Lick it up, prisoner. Do you like your taste treat? Officer French didn't wipe up last time she went potty. Be a good prisoner and clean it up for me."

Officer French had to be the sickest, most vile women I had ever been intimate with. I had never tasted urine before, but I found it strangely arousing. Not because I liked the taste of it, but because it was just such a sick and twisted thing to do. After I got over the initial shock of how it tasted, I was able to dig in and lap up all of her juices like a good boy.

"I thought you'd like that. You're a nasty one, aren't you? Maybe I was wrong about you, maybe you really are a hardened criminal, able to take the abuse"

Officer French continued to give me much-appreciated instructions on how she liked her pussy eaten, and would mostly grunt and groan. She appeared to have a fetish for smoking as well, as she had lit a fresh cigarette and would blow smoke in my face as I was eating her, and occasionally drop an ash on my head. The smell of her cigarette smoke mixed nicely with the smell and taste of her nasty wet pussy. The sensation of being in a position of subservience to a woman wasn't a new feeling for me, but the added dynamic of legally being this woman's prisoner due to my own wrongdoing made things all the more exciting. Officer French evidently liked it too, as I noticed she was beginning to grind her pussy into my face hard, and starting to buck wildly. The juices coming from her pussy were abundant, and her thighs began to tighten around my head.

"Uh..uh...prisoner...uhh...taste your jailor's pussy...uhh...you like eating cop pussy?"

Her hips were bucking wildly, and she was pushing her pussy into my face with much more force as she began to cum. My dick had been hard for several minutes and was pressing tightly against my cum soaked trousers.

"Oh...yeah...bad boy" she gasped. "Make me cum...oh God...like a good...ooooooo...little jailbird...AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!"

There was no stopping it at this point. Officer French was cumming on her prisoner's face. My arresting officer was positively vibrating with the sexual energy that was coursing through her body with each wave of her orgasm. She wasn't even vocalizing, she was just gasping for air as the orgasm had hold of her. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, her orgasm appeared to subside. Her pelvic thrusts were not as sharp, and her breathing was beginning to slow and normalize. She started releasing the vice-like grip her thighs had around my head. Once I could move, she pushed me away with her hand on my face, and I fell into the dirt on my side, rolling over onto my back. The hard ground caused my handcuffs to dig in again.