tagNonConsent/ReluctanceGillian's Descent

Gillian's Descent

byTheDarkCloud©

The two police officers watched as the short black prostitute leaned into the passenger side window and seconds later withdrew with a handful of cash and prepared to get in the car.

Sergeant Gillian Anderson ordered Joe Dupree to pull up and bust her. He would rather have just let it go, so would most of the guys, after all what harm was she doing? But not Sergeant Anderson, that hard ass bitch was so ambitious she'd book anyone to up her arrest record. Especially if they were black and especially Jazz.

Jackie "Jazz" Moore saw the cops pull up just as she was getting in the car.

"Oh fuck."

She exclaimed, when she saw that it was that young redheaded bitch booking her again she spat on the pavement and called her all the names she could think of under her breath.

"Got something to say Jazz?"

Asked Gillian mockingly as she handcuffed the whore and forced her into the cop car.

"Bitch, this is harassment , must be three times you busted me this month"

Spat out Jazz as she slid into the backseat, her micro-mini skirt riding up and giving the police officer a clear view of her shaven pussy. She couldn't help but stare at it.

"Like what you seeing Red? You can lick it for a ten."

"I don't think so, you really should reinvest some of your 'earnings' in panties Jazz."

Jazz just shut up and fumed in the back as she was driven to the station , dreaming of having that stuck up red headed bitch on her knees begging to service her. Oh for that chance, thought Jazz. Gillian meanwhile, smirked, she hated women like Jazz, especially as she was black, Gillian had a real dislike of other races.

Gillian was extremely attractive. A curvy, sexy, 28 year old redhead with the prefect figure for her frame - big bouncing breasts that started arguments as to whether they were real or fake and a nice, curvy ass that all her fellow officers loved to see walking past. Facially she was almost beautiful, with clear blue eyes and very bright, shoulder length, red hair that she normally kept tied up on her head under her cap. Obviously, in her police uniform the effect on men was dynamite .Nearly all her colleagues had tried it on at one stage or another but she had rejected them all, leading it being spread around the station that she was in fact a lesbian. She wasn't, she was just so focused on her job that she left no time or energy for having someone in her life.

She had joined the force nearly a decade earlier and had steadily gained the respect , if not the admiration of her colleagues - she wasn't real likeable. She just liked busting people, she liked the power it gave her over people. She was going places, she was young, ambitious and willing to do whatever it took to get to the top.......

SEVEN YEARS LATER

It had been a long hard haul but finally Gillian had made it to the rank of Commander, there were only two men with more power in the force in the city than her. In fact she had just recently been co-opted on the narcotics board as a ‘Drug Czar' for the city. Her ascent to such a lofty position had not been without casualties. She had taken every shortcut she could, trodden on every hand on her way up the ladder, even gone to the lengths of ensuring convictions with less than honest means, such as planting evidence and outright lying. As could be imagined she had created her share of enemies and people that would like to see her fail on the way, but as yet she had remained bullet-proof in her career and had the reputation of always coming up smelling of roses.

It was a Monday morning that the nightmare started. Gillian was opening some mail on her desk and contemplating all the tasks she had to get done at work that week, not actual police work but things that would advance her career that bit further, she really was that single-minded. Ripping through the letters at a quick pace with her silver letter opener and just as quickly binning anything that didn't look like it would aid her career, she came to a sudden stop as the next thing in line was a jiffy bag marked "PRIVATE & CONFIDENTAIL: ONLY TO BE OPENED BY COMMANDER ANDERSON". It had few markings to distinguish it (indeed when she checked afterwards it hadn't been posted, there were no postmarks, nothing) and looked like someone had just taken a parcel along and dumped it straight into her in-tray. But why?

Her curiosity was peaked by the parcel, she rarely got ones and she tore the package open with her strong fingers to find a video tape drop out. It was unmarked and there was no letter or note with it. She got a slightly bad feeling about it and looked at it as if it were a hand grenade before shaking her head, it must be someone with anonymous evidence for her to watch. Still that was hardly normal.

Instinctively she closed the door to her plush office and put the tape into her player and watched as the big screen came to life. The screen was fuzzy to begin with and the white noise quickly annoyed Gillian until she turned the volume right down. As she headed back to her desk, rapidly thinking this was a waste of time, the screen suddenly focussed and voices could be heard.

The scary thing was that as soon as she heard her voice and the voice of her lover in police training college, Pete Davis, she remembered the moment with almost perfect clarity. As she watched the events unfold on the screen she recalled what was about to happen before it did, and as each minute passed her hand inched up to cover her mouth in dismay and her mind began racing through the possible reasons behind this.

Put simply Gillian had fallen head over heels for Pete. She was nineteen and her career hadn't become the all encompassing thing it was to quickly become. Pete had been a couple of years older and was daring and exciting and everything the young Gillian had not been exposed to during her life. It was so new for her, so exciting, and the sex had been mind-blowing and amazing for her. Pete had been a wrong one from the first and was never destined to make the police grade and he didn't, getting kicked out of the training college after six months or so for a whole catalogue of reasons. His leaving had forced Gillian to focus on her career but now watching him onscreen she remembered the few months they had dated.

He had been wild and crazy and just so filled with an animal magnetism that Gillian had never encountered before or since and she had been putty in his hands (especially to begin with) and that tape had been taken just days after they had first hooked up. She had never known that he had taped this, or any of their other times together, though looking back at some of the kinky stuff he got up to she wasn't surprised.

On the screen she watched herself (seeing how recognisable she was as herself she cursed but also had a faint flush of pride at how well she had kept her teenage looks and figure, her recognisable red hair another guaranteed give-away) dressed in just black bra , panties, stockings and suspenders, her pale skin showing against the dark fabric, move across a room, coming closer to the hidden camera and the figure of Pete, shown from behind on his bed. The microphone on the camera picked up perfectly Pete's demanding voice barking out.

"Come on Cadet Anderson, I want to see that sexy body of yours, strip for me, you sexy Bitch!"

Sitting in her office all these years later Gillian cringed at the words but cringed even further as she watched her past self smile, give a mock salute, and obey his order completely. What had she been thinking? Actually right then she knew what she had been thinking: what a big cock Pete had and how desperate she had been to get it inside her. Looking back she hated what she had been.

Onscreen Gillian started to strip off her black underwear to increasingly crude and suggestive comments from the man on the bed. Her bra came off to reveal her pert, firm breasts her nipples stiff with excitement. Her knickers slid off to reveal her well kept teenage snatch, a thin strip of ginger coloured pubic hair just about visible (Damn! Where had he got such a good camera?). Keeping her stockings on she sunk to hands and knees on the bed and crawled slinkily towards the camera, licking her lips in anticipation. For a moment she thought that at least her embarrassment might be somewhat mitigated as she got so close that despite the obvious sounds of her wet lips meeting his hard cock the camera angle meant little was actually visible. Then Pete turned to his side and dragged the sucking Gillian with him and it was clear she was sucking his cock down nice and deep. She blushed in her office watching what a wanton slut she was but knew in her heart it was only going to get worse. She wanted to stop the video and throw it away but she was rooted to the floor and just stood watching the drooling blow job continue on her screen.

On screen she took that cock for a couple more minutes before Pete flipped her over dominantly and spread her legs wide open at the perfect angle to see her sopping wet slit between her legs. He fingered her for a few seconds then had her lick her own juices from his hand. Then the worst thing, and she remembered doing it like it was only yesterday. Pete took out a small bag of white powder.

"Lifted it from the evidence tank at the station."

He announced. Gillian just lay there waiting for him. He emptied a line of it between her breasts and took out a rolled up banknote and sniffed it up from the soft crevice between her tits. Then he handed her the bag and she giggled as she sprinkled a line along the length of his hard dick and used the same note to sniff the powder up her nose before taking his cock deep in her mouth and licking and sucking the residue from his skin. The next twenty minutes of the tape consisted of the two of them fucking like rabbits and finally him spraying his load all over her face. She felt like such a slut watching it all these years later.

The screen suddenly faded to black and a message sprung up in big white letters.

"IF YOU DON'T WANT THIS TAPE FALLING INTO THE ‘WRONG' HANDS BE AT THE PUBLIC TELEPHONE BOX AT THE CORNER OF 4TH AND 12TH ST TONIGHT AT 10PM. YOU BETTER BE ALONE. OH, AND DIG OUT YOUR OLD UNIFORM, I KINDA LIKED YOU IN THAT."

It had to be blackmail! Someone must have found the tape (Pete had tragically died five years previously she knew), recognised her and decided to use it and her new position to get some easy cash or have her look the other way. The thing was, even as Gillian re-examined the envelope and tape for any signs or clues she knew that she would pay whatever the blackmailer wanted. She had worked too hard and too long to achieve what she had achieved and she knew that she had made enough enemies on the way up that if this was to ever become public then she would be finished in the force. Oh maybe at first she would just be demoted but she had made some pretty powerful enemies that would see to it she was ousted before too long. She couldn't have all that she had fought and lied and scratched for taken away from her. Not now she was so close!

So it was that that after a day of soul searching and debating with herself and her conscience that she finally made her mind up that she had to do it. She did indeed dig out her old beat Sergeant's outfit and it still fit her - just! Her tits were a bit bigger now and strained at the buttons of the dark blue top. She was tempted to take her pistol with her but decided not to risk it, she only wished that there was someone in the station she could trust, but she had chosen her path and how to travel it and that had precluded any friends. Besides from the way the tape had arrived and the tone of the note she was sure this was someone from the station at the bottom of this. She swore if she ever found out who it was she would destroy them.

*

It was cold and dark and the wind whistled down the street as Gillian pulled up across from the phone box. She sat behind the wheel and scanned the surrounding area carefully. Past the phone box was a bunch of trees and that led into a small park. She could see a bum limping along past the phone and sure no-one was waiting to jump her she stepped from the car. She was nervous, she had no back up, no-one knew where she was or what she was doing, this could all be a terrible mistake. As she slammed the door on her Cadillac the phone started to ring and she hurried across the road, but just as she lifted the receiver the other end went dead.

"Damn!" she swore.

Then the phone rang shrilly back to life and when she answered it a badly distorted voice commanded her from the other end.

"Well done Bitch, it's good to see you've obeyed me."

"Who the hell are you? When I find you I'll..."

She interrupted angrily.

"SHUT UP! If you interrupt me again then I'll hang up and post copies of this tape to every newspaper in the city, remember that!"

She collected herself somewhat and gathered her thoughts, she knew she needed to be professional about this and keep alert, try to get some sort of a clue as to who this was.

"OK, I'm sorry! You're the boss. What do you want? Money?"

"Ha Ha! You wish it would be so easy, don't you? It wouldn't be the first time you have bought your way out of problems would it? Oh no, I know all about you Commander. But before I tell you what I want I want you to do something for me, a token of your appreciation of the situation that you are in, to show that you'll do just what I ask to get my silence."

"Ok, whatever."

"Good, that's the attitude, I'm sure we can do this amicably enough. Right, I want you to unbutton that police shirt you've got on, do each button real slow and once they are all open I want you to pull off the shirt and stick it in that garbage pail to your right."

"What! You're kidding, you're mad."

"If you haven't started unbuttoning in ten seconds, I'm hanging up and the tape is posted tonight. And remember, I'm watching. Ten...Nine."

She had figured he must be watching her and something in the way he spoke told her he was not joking. As his voice spoke the word ‘three' she reached her hand up and undid the top button of her tunic.

Once the first button was done the others seemed to follow in rapid order until the shirt flapped around her loosely. She had expected the voice at the other end of the phone to make some sort of comment but it was silent, so much so that she paused wondering whether he had gone. When he spoke again it was harsh and loud in her ear.

"Off with it and straight in the bin. You need to start realising that I'm calling the shots here."

Cursing under her breath she pulled the dark blue shirt off and rolled it up and rammed it into the nearby bin. Only as she turned back to the phone box did she start to really feel exposed and uncomfortable about standing out here like this with just her bra on her top half. He remained silent but she could just hear his breathing at the other end to know he was till there. He finally spoke after thirty seconds.

"Uncomfortable Commander?"

"Yes. Happy now?"

"Hmm. Yes, but don't think that your through, not by a long shot. What I want you to do now is to leave your mobile phone on top of the phone box – don't worry, you'll get it back later on, but I don't want you trying any tricks. Get into your car and drive to the phone box down the road and in front of the video store."

"What? Like this? I can't ....."

"You can and you'd better, the phone will ring in five minutes, if you don't answer then you know what I'll do."

With that the phone clicked dead. She crossed her arms across her cold chest and walked back to her car. She was stunned, in shock. This wasn't her, she was always in control not being told what to do. Just the fact someone was bossing her around was almost as bad as what they threatened to do with the video. Then as she entered her car and started it she realised how dangerous this actually was. Her mobile phone was atop the box as instructed and she had no top to wear, just her bra. Why had he made her strip? Just to establish her compliance? Or was there something more sinister in his motives?

Gillian drove to the next phone box in a daze of confusion but as she stepped out into the cold night once again and noticed the amused stares of customers in the video store at her state of undress , she quickly sharpened up and answered the phone that started to ring.

"Well done Commander, you made it. And now that I'm sure you've not been stupid enough to try and do something to evade this or catch me I can tell you what you will have to do to get that tape back."

"How can I trust you?"

"Simply you can't. But you can trust that If you don't do what I say that I will forward it to the press as soon as I can. Believe me, I hate you enough to do that!"

Gillian didn't reply, she just stood there, shivering and waiting for what the bastard wanted, not really wanting to hear it but knowing that it would at least bring this to an end.

"it's easy really. I've got this rich friend who has admired you for some time. Said he likes redheads with power. Well he's paying me to arrange for you two to spend the night together, if you know what I mean."

"No way you freak, I'm not a whore."

"Well tonight you'd better be or else you know what happens. Besides I thought a frigid bitch like you might need a good fucking. Don't worry he's a good looking guy. Anyway it's up to you, be outside room 306 of the Alliance Hotel in fifteen minutes if you are prepared to go through with it, your man's name is Jose, do what he says and this tape is yours, the choice is yours."

Again he hung up with no warning, leaving Gillian considering her options in the phone box. By now a small crowd of teenagers had gathered outside the shop to stare at her and as she pushed out of the glass door they made all sorts of comments. She shot them a venomous look and stormed back to her car. But once in she froze, what could she do? She felt so impotent and powerless. She thumped the steering wheel in frustration and turned the key to start it. Although she hadn't made her mind up if she could go through with it, subconsciously she was already heading in the direction of the hotel.....

Things were as bad as she had thought they would be trying to gain entry to the hotel wearing only a bra to cover her top. She had to spin the same embarrassing story to the big, gruff doorman (who seemed very amused) and the snooty female receptionist, that she was staying with the man in room 306 and her top had been stolen, could she go and get inside and get re-dressed. She was convincing but it still took a call up to the room in question for her to get the Okay to head upstairs in the quiet hotel. For such an expensive Hotel there really was no one going about and for that Gillian was thankful, no one to see her in that state of embarrassment and no one that might recognise her. She took the stairs up, not wanting to risk the lift and minutes later, stood, her heart thundering in her chest, ready to knock at the door.

She knew this was it. She could still turn back but once this door was opened she couldn't. She thought about her career, what she had done to reach where she was and it was easy really. One night's suffering and humiliation for her to preserve her career was going to be worth it for her, she reasoned. Then when the dust had settled she would have her revenge, find out who this was in the room and who was arranging the blackmail and make their lives hell! But for now she took a deep breath and all the confidence she could muster she rapped on the big wooden door with gold plated numbering.

He kept her waiting for what seemed like ages, making Gillian feel more uncomfortable standing like that in the corridor. She heard the elevator door ‘ping' around the corner and willed the door to open. She heard voices and couldn't tell if they were leading away or coming towards her. Then the door in front of her opened. The man filled the door frame and was so far forward in the room that Gillian was not able to step forward into it and reduce her embarrassment.

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byTheDarkCloud© 12 comments/ 191765 views/ 28 favorites

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