Warning: This story contains themes of violence, rape, masculinity, humiliation, and law enforcement. If you are not interested in exploring these issues in an erotic context, please go elsewhere. I hesitate to even call this "fantasy," because it is not something I crave, necessarily, but something I felt compelled to explore. All feedback, whether positive or constructive, is greatly appreciated.
James and Emily were eager to get back to their apartment. It was their one-year anniversary, and they had spent most of it driving on the dark Wisconsin highways. They'd enjoyed a romantic weekend in Chicago, but not wanting to spring for another night at the hotel, they had decided to drive home to the Twin Cities, and spend their romantic evening there. Emily had hinted to James that she had a surprise for him, one that he would like, so James was driving fast, and both were acting bubbly and romantic the whole way.
James and Emily were both late bloomers, and at 19 and 18, respectively, they were each the other's first. It had taken them almost six months to "go all the way," as Emily called it, but since then, they had gradually grown more adventurous. Emily had even gotten on top once, which they both found very scandalous and exciting.
It was probably because they were so happy and excited that they did notice the speed trap that they blew past at 70 mph in a 65 zone. But they quickly noticed the blue and red lights in their rearview mirror.
"Oh shit," James said, as Emily peered over her seat at the following cruiser. He began obediently pulling his car into the breakdown lane. "I was barely speeding," he complained. The cruiser stopped a little way behind them, and they waited for the officer to approach.
The police officer looked about 40 years old, and had a little bit of stubble on his chin. "License and registration, please," he ordered. James fumbled in the glove compartment for it. Emily tugged gently at the hem of her black dress. It was shorter than most clothes she wore, and the officer's gaze had suddenly made her aware of it.
"Could you both please step out of the car," the officer said, after studying the registration for a moment.
"Is there something wrong?" James inquired, after a worried look past between him and Emily.
"I said step out of the car," the policeman said sternly.
Both stepped out of the car, looking first at the policeman, then at each other. Another officer who they had not noticed in cruiser approached from it. He was a black man, taller and younger than the first.
"How are we doing, Officer Daniels?" he asked urgently.
"This car matches the description, and the registration looks phony. We need to do a search."
"What's wrong with our registration?" James asked, incredulous.
"Sir, your car matches the description of one used recently in a drug case. We are going to search your car and your persons," the second cop answered, and in one move had closed the distance to James, and put a pair of hand cuffs on one wrist.
"This is outrageous!" James complained, as he allowed himself to be handcuffed. "There's nothing in our car!"
"Then you shouldn't mind us having a look. Right Officer Murray?" the first cop said sternly.
"That's right," the second cop replied. He brought James by his wrists to the side of the car, and sat him down. Officer Daniels led Emily around and sat her down next to him. When she sat, her thighs hiked up her dress, and with her hands cuffed behind her back, she was unable to adjust it.
The police searched the car thoroughly, even cutting into his upholstery, despite his entreaties. When their search yielded nothing, they turned to James and Emily.
"Alright, I'll strip the girl, you take the boy," Officer Daniels ordered.
"What?!" James shouted, "this is outrageous!" as Officer Daniels tried to lift him to his feet.
"James!" Emily cried out, with fear in her voice.
"Looks like he'll be a two man job," Officer Daniels observed. He approached James, who was still struggling, and waited until Murray had him tightly around the chest from behind. Daniels unbuckled James' belt, and quickly pulled down his pants, despite his angry pleas.
James' flaccid cock was now exposed to the warm summer air. Daniels took the small cock firmly between his fingers and moved it around, searching for contraband hiding underneath it or behind his sack.
"You have no right to do this to us!" James argued, struggling, his voice cracking. He stopped struggling as he heard Emily begin to cry. As the three of them looked at her, a quiet hiss and growing wet patch on the pavement beneath her told them that she was wetting herself.
Daniels approached her and hoisted her to her feet as she cried quietly. "Hold him tight while I examine the girl," he ordered, and Emily sobbed more loudly at this prospect.
Daniels began lifting her dress, and Emily struggled a bit, but he held her firmly. To James' surprise, a bald crotch came into view. James realized what his surprise had been.
