Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
I was back home for the summer from my sophomore year in college. It was a beautiful summer day, sunny but not too hot. I decided to take a drive along a state primary road through a rural area not far from my home town to the riverfront.
Traffic was light, so I figured that I could go fast. While the speed limit was 50, surely a few miles per hour over the limit would be safe. I looked down at my speedometer and saw that I was doing close to 65. I slowed down, but too late. A police car caught up with me, its lights on.
I pulled over and got out my driver's license and the registration and insurance cards for the car. I could see the policeman approaching me in the left side-view mirror. He was tall and powerfully built, apparently in his thirties, with blond hair in a buzz cut. I rolled down the window.
When he leaned down to the window, I handed him the documents. I could see that his uniform shirt was straining over his muscular body. Regarding me coldly with his green eyes, he asked, "Do you have any idea how fast you were going back there?"
"I know I was going a little fast," I said, "but wasn't that fast."
"Wasn't that fast? You were doing 75 in a 50 zone."
"No, that can't be right. I couldn't have been doing that fast; I wasn't doing anywhere close to 75."
"Well, you were. I'm always right, and besides, who do you think the judge'll believe, an officer of the law or some leadfoot punk?"
He stood up to study the documents. I then saw an impressive bulge in his uniform trousers. I could not help staring at it. He leaned down again and asked, "What're you looking at?"
"Um, nothing."
"You'll be a little less flip with me when you find out what sort of trouble you're in. The speed you were going is reckless per se in this state. That means you'll get six points on your license and pay a fine of up to $2,500. If the judge doesn't like you, he can have your license suspended or even jail you." He looked at my face and said, "Now that got your attention."
"Isn't there anything I can do?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"I'm not a bad guy. Maybe you can just let me off with a warning?"
He laughed. "I don't think so. You're pretty well fucked, kid."
"I can't be."
"You can be, and you are. Have fun in jail, you little snot-nosed punk." He stood to read over my driver's license again. I could see that the bulge had expanded. He looked down at me and said, "You look desperate. You really don't want it to go down this way, do you?"