Police - Britslut's Slutty Stories

Britslut’s

Slutty Stories

Police

I was driving back from a meeting, in the gathering dusk; the road was long and straight and empty and I couldn’t help day-dreaming, about the hunky guy I had met that afternoon. Suddenly I noticed flashing blue lights behind me, then the police car overtook me and indicated that I should pull in to the side and stop. My heart began to race - we are all guilty as soon as the police notice us.

A flashlight beam shone into the car and I opened the window. A woman’s voice said ‘Can you tell me what speed you were doing, madam?’ Polite but accusing nonetheless.

‘Uh, about 50 ... 55 maybe.’

‘We measured you doing 70. Do you know what the speed limit is here, madam?’ I hate being called madam.

‘Uh ... 70?’

‘It’s 50. Can I see your driving licence and insurance please?’

I fished them out and handed them over. She spent a long time studying them, and then showed them to her colleague, who was also a woman. Both seemed quite young and even pretty under their severe caps.

‘Can you step out of the car please?’

I did so, trembling. They looked me up and down, then whispered to each other.

‘We have reason to believe you may be carrying illicit substances. We can either search you here or take you to the police station. Which would you prefer?’

I really didn’t want to go to the station and be logged in and fingerprinted and all that humiliating stuff. I said go ahead, I had nothing to hide.

‘Take your clothes off then.’

I was shocked, but automatically began to unbutton my blouse and skirt. Fortunately it was a warm night. The policewomen felt my clothes and draped them over the top of the car. ‘Underwear too, please.’

I started to protest but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to get arrested for Refusing To Obey A Police Officer. I unclasped my bra and pulled my knickers down, feeling my nipples harden at the touch of the fresh air. I heard the two women murmuring something. ‘Not bad’, one of them said.

‘Spread your legs and lean forward.’ A touch on the ankles made me plant my feet even further apart. I leant over the car’s bonnet, my breasts flattening against the warm metal.

They inspected me from the rear. ‘Nice pussy,’ one said.

‘Cavity search?’ said the other, with what might have been a chuckle in her voice.

Fingers parted my pussy lips, firmly but not roughly, and then penetrated me for quite a depth. Hands pulled my buttocks wide apart.

‘We have to check you’re not concealing anything inside you,’ one of the policewomen said. ‘We use these.’

A big black truncheon waved in front of my face. I quailed.

‘You might want to lick it, make it go in easier.’ Trembling with fear, I sucked the cool plastic and got it wet and slippery.

I felt something pushing against my pussy and relaxed my muscles until it slid inside. It was big! As big as the largest man I had had, and more unyielding. The huge cylinder slid in until it was pressing against my womb. It was strangely erotic.

‘And the other one.’ I lubricated a second truncheon with my saliva, not daring to think where it might be headed.

My fears were realised. Something solid pressed against my anus, impossibly big. I willed my muscles to relax. The pressure increased. Suddenly I dilated and the object slid into me, stretching my anus wider than I believed possible. I moaned with the intense feeling - not quite pain, but not all pleasure either. The truncheon continued to invade me until my bowels felt completely filled.

‘She’s good, isn’t she,’ I heard one of the women say. I was concentrating on not clamping down on the twin shafts filling my holes. They began to move the two truncheons in and out, slowly at first, then faster. It felt weird.

Gradually I realised that I was becoming sexually aroused - in fact to my shame I was already most of the way to an orgasm. I fought against it, not wanting the women to see me enjoying my humiliation, but it was no use. With a loud groan I climaxed powerfully, my body clutching at the penetrating objects ...

-------

I realised that there was something tapping at the car window. I surfaced from my day-dream and saw the worried face of a young policeman. My car was parked rather askew at the side of the road. I opened the window with a strong sense of deja-vu.

‘Are you OK, madam?’ he asked.

‘Oh, uh, yes, thanks, officer. I just felt tired suddenly and pulled over. Sorry.’

‘That’s OK. I thought you might be ill. It might not be safe for a woman on her own to stop on these unlit country roads.’ He pointed down at my lap, and I saw that I must have unbuttoned my skirt. My knickers were on show, a damp patch over the crotch. ‘Especially looking like that.’

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last modified 30 July 2004