This chapter continues my private diary of misadventures I've endured because of my most spiteful neighbor, Mrs. Smith, who has never forgiven me for succumbing to her husband's seduction, [he was, and still is when she is away, a most delightful fuck] and now seeks to cause me grief whenever possible.
We had almost arrived back at my condo complex where we had first met earlier that afternoon, with me riding in the rear seat of the patrol car, my hands cuffed behind my back, wearing only my new Chinese bathrobe to cover my complete nudity, before I realized I didn't know the Lieutenant's name.
I'd recognized his voice as my obscene caller that had induced me to masturbate in public that morning – that had led to him giving me a choice of jail or servicing him, as I had just done for the past few minutes, but he'd never introduced himself, and his name plate was not on his uniform, where it was supposed to be, so I didn't actually know his name.
"Lieutenant, what do I call you?' You didn't introduce yourself, and since we've enjoyed each other's company so much in the last few minutes, I would like to know your name," I said in a somewhat petulant voice; making an oblique reference to our mutual orgasms he had induced by first sucking my perfectly willing cock to ejaculation in his mouth, to him then fucking my defenseless bottom, and peeved that he had actually forced me to accept his cock up my bottom, or should I say – raped my totally vulnerable ass - that is the term most people use when their anus is sexually penetrated by a very big, very hard cock, before their consent is given for such a thing, or at least getting a proper introduction.
In response he said in a cheerful voice, "You don't need to know my name. You are not going to call me at all. I'll call you. But if you do want to address me in person, you can call me Lieutenant, Sir or Master. I don't expect you to ever call me at the station, because if you do, I'll have to give you several severe lessons in why you should not call me there, or call me at all. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir," I responded without thinking. This guy gave orders so much like the military I was reverting to responding automatically to orders without any thought as to why the orders were given.
He drove into the condo complex entry, keyed in a security password that opened the front gate, and drove around the complex directly to the entry closest to my unit. "Sit tight for a minute, I need to make sure we can get into your unit," he said as he stepped out of the car. He obviously knew where I lived and knew he could get into my condo, because he didn't ask what unit I lived in, or ask for a key.
Five minutes later he came back, opened the rear door of the patrol car, reached in and pulled me out, and as soon as I was standing, spun me around to face the car, shoved me face down across the trunk, raised the hem of my new robe he had just given me, exposing my bare bottom to public view, and proceeded to remove the handcuffs.
Then just as my hands were released and I tired to stand up, he held me down across the truck with one hand and smacked my bare bottom hard with his free hand – WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! It hurt but, each time his hand hit my bare bottom his fingers slid between my cheeks and he fingered my slot as he withdrew his hand, giving me a little thrill of pleasure to go with each jolt of pain he caused.
