(Thanks to Drewau for editing. Comments and feedback are always welcome and appreciated. I'm still trying to solidify my next series in my mind, but I had this idea for a one-shot when I woke up this morning. It was forming together so easily and quickly that I had to write it, and then it started getting long, which is what she said, and so I had to split this story into two instead of truncating the ending. I hope you enjoy it.)
"Where's the money?" Ana yelled in English through her thick Brazillian accent. She had finally caught a break on a string of bank robbery cases she had been investigating.
"I told you, I don't know what you are talking about. I was just minding my own business in the market when you tackled me and started smothering me with your giant tits." James spoke calmly in his RP British accent.
An American woman might have been embarrassed by this and the state she had caught him in. It had been Ana's day off, and as many in Brazil do on their day off, she went to the beach. Even if going topless on the beach weren't normal, she would have attempted to show off as much of her gorgeous breasts as she could.
She especially loved walking by uptight American tourists in her thong and nothing else. Her volleyball-sized breasts, nipples that could put an eye out, deeply tan skin, and her outrageously toned body caused many men to have to try and hide their boners from their wives as she strolled by. Truth be told, it turned her on.
That's part of the reason she became a cop. She loved the feeling of having power, especially over men, even more so if she didn't even have to use her badge or strength to do so. American men were the easiest to tease, too many centuries of being taught that nudity was taboo. But that was fine, it just fed into her fantasy all the more.
Today though, Ana was simply working on her tan when she heard the alarm go off and looked up just in time to see this large masked man bolting from the bank with two large duffle bags in tow. She had no time to put on her shoes, let alone a top as she gave pursuit. She must have given quite a show as her gravity-defying tits bounced and shook back and forth as she sprinted through the busy market.
She had lost sight of her target only briefly as he banked around a corner. When she turned the corner she saw him, the same height, build, and clothes. The only thing missing was his mask and bags. She was surprised the large black man didn't put up more of a fight. His size was comparable to Idris Elba and she was sure she would end up having to break a few bones to subdue him. But he acted like a pushover, especially when Ana informed him that she was the police.
Thankfully a uniformed officer was nearby. She turned James over to them to be brought down to the station why she went home to get dressed. Now she was wearing a satin light blue blouse tucked into a tight pair of black trousers. She typically wore her long curly flowing hair up when she was at work, but she wanted to get back to interrogate the bank robber as soon as possible.
"I chased you into that market."
"It wasn't me. And where is my Attorney."
"He called, he's still back in the U.K. Which means we have several more hours to play this game before he can come and ruin our fun." Ana had unplugged the cameras ten minutes earlier. She knew how to rough up a criminal without leaving a trace. That was her idea of fun. Her captain didn't mind either as long as there was no evidence of police brutality, and she got results.
She was on some thin ice at the moment though. After enough people filed complaints, IA had opened up an investigation on her. She wasn't too worried, except she had made two mistakes. Her first was a woman she had slapped in interrogation. Apparently, she had Cushing's disease and bruised much more easily than typical. The second was a sadist who ended up cumming in his pants from her "Enhanced Interrogation" techniques.
If you hit someone right you can keep it from leaving a bruise or breaking the skin. It's hard to hide a cum stain in pants. Especially with how much he came. He had a mild form of a condition called Hyperactive Testes Disorder. The man was claiming that Ana was trying to sexually extort a confession out of him.
Which, to be honest, she wasn't above doing. She just hadn't gotten to that step with that particular perpetrator yet. With James, she was confident that she wouldn't have either issue. His skin seemed tougher than most and he showed no sign of an erection, yet. Despite all of this, she was still nervous to proceed with the investigation hanging over her head. But she had been investigating this string of bank robberies for six months and was desperate to close the case.
Ana stood and walked around the table to James. She scooted his chair back and stood uncomfortably close to him. His hands cuffed behind his back made him feel even more uncomfortable. Ana's shirt was buttoned just high enough to seem innocuous, but still showed plenty of her ample cleavage. The man couldn't help but look as they were right at his eye level.
She used her leg to nudge his legs apart before gently snuggling her knee onto the chair up next to his crotch. Ana also leaned in and put her hands on the chair back, giving him an up-close view of straight down her blouse. James could see the fine detail on her black lace bra.
Ana's tone changed. Vinegar didn't work, it was time to try honey. Her voice became soft and sultry, and she leaned heavier into her accent. Foreign guys loved the heavy accent, especially Americans and Brits. It was exotic, which was hot all by itself. But broken English spoken in a foreign accent by a hot woman caused something primitive and protective to trigger in the many men in the English speaking world.
In a way, they saw it as a weakness. This poor woman can't speak the language very well, I need to protect her and take care of her. And in their minds, protecting her came with the perks of access to her body. It was incredibly demeaning to women and other cultures, but Ana was not above exploiting his caveman brain to her advantage.
"Look, I'm sorry I hit you. But I am just really desperate to solve this case. My job is riding on it, and I would do ANYTHING to keep my job." Ana was a master at taking on any persona to get what she wanted, on or off the job. And by the feel of the huge snake creeping down James's paint leg, she was reminded of how good she was at her job.
When James spoke again, his voice was softer and slightly breathless. "I told you already. You got the wrong man."
There was a knock on the door and Ana jumped away from him in a flash. Seconds later Ella stepped inside. She was a petite ex-pat from France, with short blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. Her thin delicate facial features were like a model. Ella's white blouse nearly completely hid her small breasts and was tucked into a long black pencil skirt.
She walked delicately into the room in three-inch black heels. From her thin lips came English in her native French accent. "We have to let him go."
"What? Why?" Ana was incredulous.
