Case of the Fake Badges Ch. 03

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

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Part 10 - Bravado and Fallout

70-0.

That's right. Seventy to nothing. It was the worst defeat in Bulldogs history, and it was administered to them by my Wildcats. And it was not as close as the score indicated.

It was clear that the Wildcats would dominate from the opening series, when the went down and effortlessly scored on a five-minute, eight-play drive. Then the Bulldogs were held to their first of twelve 'three-and-outs'. They only had two first downs the entire game. The halftime score was 42-0, and it was expected both teams would begin shuffling in reserves.

The game stayed relatively clean until early in the fourth quarter. The Wildcats took nine minutes off the clock and finally ran out of football field to run on, and they went up 49-0. But on the next series a couple of Bulldogs 'red dogged' the center (illegal in college football), and also hit the quarterback late. Not a bad hit, certainly no intent to injure, and yellow flags flew all over the place.

Still, Coach Richmond, a one-time college quarterback himself, was known for retaliating against late hits to his quarterbacks. He put the first string back in. On the next play, the quarterback threw a beautiful 55-yard strike to the team's best wide receiver, who caught it for the easy score over the totally outclassed Bulldogs cornerback. I felt some sense of karma at that: the cornerback had been the kid who'd 'fronted' me at the Wednesday morning practice.

The Wildcats did not relent and did not substitute, and put 2 more scores on, the last coming with 1:15 left on the clock for the historic 70-0 beatdown. I noticed as the coach's met that Coach Bronson's handshake was brief, but Coach Richmond made a point to say something to him. Bronson acted shocked, then walked off the field.

During the third quarter, Dr. Wellman asked if we should leave early. I quietly told him that, except for the Wildcats game, I had nothing against the Bulldogs and would root for them, and having said that I believed that for the team's future that he, Dr. Wellman, should go to the locker room after the game as he usually did after wins, and let the players know he supported them. He agreed, and indeed did so as the rest of his party moved towards the bus to go to the airport.

I later saw a video someone made of Wellman's talk. He said "I know you're hurting now, boys, but I can only quote a former president and say 'Only when you have been in the deepest valley can you truly appreciate the view from the highest mountain.'. We're in that valley now, but we will climb that mountain. We start climbing today. I promise you that the University will be there to support you, and to climb with you. Don't ever hang your heads, gentlemen. You are Bulldogs! We are Bulldogs!" The players responded very positively to the message.

I knew that I was seeing the birth of something, and that this 70-0 beatdown would not be forgotten... and that such lopsided wins would not be coming against the Bulldogs in the future...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To no one's surprise, the plane ride home was very quiet. Dr. Wellman talked privately with Laura for some time, while I talked with Sheriff Allgood about the 'Fake Badges' series of crimes.

Once we got home, Laura and I changed into our costumes for the Hallowe'en party at the University President's mansion. We were going as Marc Antony and Cleopatra, and let's just say that Laura's costume was... revealing. It would be more accurate to say there was almost no costume at all (Yowza!).

We made the rounds of speaking to people, but there was a tremendously subdued air to the party, mostly because of the football defeat, but partly because most of the people there had other, late-night parties to attend. Laura and I were part of that last group; we excused ourselves early and headed to our next party, at Rita's 'Lashes & Lace'.

"Mmmm, my two most delicious party favors." said Rita as she came up to us. She and Laura exchanged a two-cheek kiss, then Rita plastered a kiss right on my wife's mouth. Rita followed up with the same for me. "So, to whom may I give you away tonight, Doctor? I'm keeping your husband as a present to myself, of course."

"If you don't mind," Laura said, slipping her arm around the statuesque blonde's waist, "it has been a very long day, and I wouldn't mind just sitting back with a nice drink."

"As usual," I said, "my wife's beauty is exceeded only by her brains. That's not a bad idea."

"You do look a little tired, Doctor." said Rita. She turned to me and said "And you look like you've been fucking someone's brains out today. Cop." I just grinned.

Rita escorted us downstairs, where a full-blown orgy was in progress. I recognized at least one couple from the Wellman's party, where a female English professor was being 'spit-roasted' by a Satyr and another man as her husband watched her... while having his cock sucked by another woman.

The stage was to the right as one entered the room, Rita's alcove to the left, the 'secret' passage to her office on the left, to the right of the alcove. At back left was another hallway. Rita took us down that passage to a very comfortable room that was reasonably lighted. The walls were ringed with TVs, showing the action on the main floor. Sex in this room was forbidden; it was just for talking, having a drink, and watching. Laura and I indulged in some adult beverages as we and four other couples, also masked, watched the screens.

But while sex was forbidden, kissing and light touching was allowed. Laura sat back on the soft sofa we were sitting on and spread her long, shapely legs obscenely, allowing her pussy to be seen by anyone looking. She and I shared some kisses as she touched her clit, feeling the eyes of the other couples upon us. One couple left to join the main floor orgy; Laura had aroused them with her wanton exhibitionism.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was late, nearly 3:00am, and the other couples had left the room. At that point, Rita came in with one of her Satyrs, who I recognized in spite of his mask as Sean Sanderson, whose mother I had just put in prison for murder. Rita closed the door.

Laura was lying on the sofa, half asleep and with a good buzz, having had a couple of strong drinks. I asked her if she wanted the Satyr to fuck her, and she said that would be fine. I got up and moved to another sofa, where Rita joined me.


We watched as Sean eased his lean, muscular body on top of Laura. He slid his huge, hard cock along her slit, dryhumping her, wetting his long, thick shaft down with her pussy juices. Then he reached down and eased the head into my wife's cunthole and sank his full length into her, his hard asscheeks bobbing up and down as he sank it deeper and deeper into her until he was sheathed to the hilt.

Sean eased his weight onto Laura, nuzzling her neck as he fucked her. Laura wasn't really responding, just taking his thrusts with whispery "oooh"s and coos of delight. Sean didn't seem to mind, enjoying the long, slow, deep fuck.

After a few strokes, Laura began kissing Sean's mouth, and I knew she was getting into the sex, heating up and enjoying it, but more enjoying the young stud that was copulating with her. She began matching Sean's rhythm, meeting his deep thrusts, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him harder. I could sense the intensity of the rutting couple's passion beyond just seeing and hearing it...

As we watched my wife make love with another man, Rita cuddled up with me. "I do have some news for you. Cop." she said, her voice a mere whisper. "I heard about those Fake Badge killings. I'm sure you realize what's going on with them."

"I have an idea." I whispered back as I enjoyed the sight of the huge teen cock plunging into my wife's fur-fringed cunt again and again. "Two separate things going on. The badges are not related to the victims they're found with."

"Hmmm, your brain is a sharp as your cock is iron hard. Cop." Rita said, complimenting me. "You're on the right track."

"Do you know who is doing this? Who's behind it?" I asked.

"No." Rita whispered. "That's what you're on this earth for, to find things like that out. I've only heard through the Underground that someone is planting badges like Easter eggs, to lead you on a hunt. I don't know if it's a red herring or a false trail, or if it's the real thing."

"You know..." I said, thinking about it, "I think it may be the real thing." Just then I was interrupted by my wife's loud moan. I saw her raise and spread her shapely legs, her elegant feet above her and Sean's head, giving him easier, deeper access to her sodden pussy.

Sean was really into it. He was groaning as he plowed Laura's cunt, and he slid his hands down to grasp her asscheeks and pull her into him, trying to gain leverage as the rutting couple lustily mated. Finally, my wife's cunt was too much, and with a deep, guttural groan, Sean came.

"Oh, that looks so good!" Rita gasped as she watched Sean come inside Laura, the agonizing ecstasy on his face. Finally, he was spent, and Rita practically dove for the teen stud's cock, licking and sucking off the combined love juices.

"Happy birthday, Beautiful!" Sean said, kissing Laura for the last time before dismounting.

"Mmmm, that was a wonderful birthday present." Laura said sleepily. "Honey, do you want sloppy seconds?"

"You know I do." I said. Sean and Rita moved out of the way as I mounted my wife. I slid my cock into Laura's sperm-filled, messy quim and began fucking her hard and deep. The sounds of our coupled loins filled the air as I pistoned rapidly in and out of her, fucking her cunt into a creamy lather, our coupled loins shining with the mixture of juices as the back of my cockhead raked Sean's sperm out of the depths of my wife's womanhood.

I thought of Sean fucking my wife moments before, and now me getting the leftovers. Some people think it's sick, perverted or wrong, but I reveled in fucking my wife after she'd been used by other men, of fucking her after she'd pleasured them, of sloppy seconds... uhhh... I felt my sperm jetting into Laura's cunt, joining Sean's load deep inside there, our sperm doing battle to fertilize eggs that they would not find inside my wife...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I took Laura to the University Diner on University Avenue for an early-morning breakfast before heading home. She sobered up with some coffee, which brought back her sense of humor.

"So my husband takes me to a BDSM club to get fucked by a teen stud," she said, "then to a diner for my birthday. What a romantic guy you are... Cop." I broke down laughing along with her.

"I told you that my birthday plans for you were messed up by going with the President's group to the game." I said. "But we're going to have a nice family day after we get some sleep, and I'm sure Carole will enjoy helping you blow out the candles on your cake, even though there are so few of them."

"Awww, that's sweet." Laura said. She was 47 today, though she looked ten years younger... and to me would be 29 forever, of course.

"Speaking of the game, there is one thing I never got a chance to tell you." Laura said. "On the flight home, Dr. Wellman said that he spoke to Coach Bronson briefly in the locker room. Bronson said that at the handshake with Coach Richmond, Bronson had said something about running up the score. Richmond made a point to say something like 'I heard what you guys were shouting at Wednesday morning's practice'.

Laura continued. "Bronson told Dr. Wellman that he saw you at the practice facility that morning after your ROTC run, and he, Bronson, thinks you told the Wildcat coaches about the 'motivational speech' he gave the team that morning, maybe even videotaped it. Dr. Wellman wanted me to ask you about that rather than him asking you."

"So nice of him." I said. "And to answer: I can't claim to be the reason the Wildcats put a seventy-burger on the Bulldogs. So tell Wellman to let it go."

"You should run for Governor." Laura said. "You do politic-speak better than the politicians."

"How does that song go? Oh yes..." I said, then began singing: "Let it go, let it go, let it goooo."

"I'll do that," Laura replied, "if you just stop singing."

"Keep the day job, huh?" I asked. Laura just nodded and held her cup up as the waitress came around with the coffee pot...

Part 11 - Outcoached

On Sunday evening, November 1st, the Orange Order dinner was held at John Colby's 'The Steakhouse'. As we ate some of the most well-grown and well-prepared steaks in the State, we talked of Police Force matters.

"For the most part, tomorrow will be about catching up on Commendations and Achievement Awards." I said to Chief Griswold, loudly enough where most could hear. "There are not very many promotions at all, especially after the Council put in the new structure. I'm glad we got Cummings a full 'black box' last time, or she'd have been stuck."

"Anyone have any idea who the next Chief is going to be?" asked Micah Rudistan with a mischievous grin. All eyes went to Your Iron Crowbar.

"I heard a rumor that Chief Griswold is coming back." I said.

"Miss Ross, can I borrow your blue crowbar and beat some sense into this man?" replied Griswold.

"I'm on his side, Chief." said Cindy, smiling. "I want you back, too." There was a general acclaim of agreement.

"Seriously," I said, "that might not be decided for weeks. But I can tell you this: it won't be me... and it won't be Brownlee."

"How can you be sure?" asked Janice Holloway.

"Because gears are in motion." I said. "I'll just give you guys this clue, knowing it won't leave this room: we went through this process last year. There were several candidates for Chief then, and they'll be candidates this time around. The process will go much faster and smoother, and we'll have a really good Chief by February 1st."

As we finished, Corporal Ronnie Kirkpatrick spoke up. "Everyone, we'll have the Orange Order election next month, in early December. While we never tell nor overtly suggest who people should vote for, be watching for worthy candidates to simply 'mention' to others. I'll let you know when the vote-counting meeting takes place, as well."

"How many candidates will we be accepting?" asked Della Harlow.

"That's what I was going to say." said Kirkpatrick. "Last year we had an expanded group of six. We like to keep our total numbers to ten percent or less of the overall Force. This last year we've actually had some attrition, with possibly more on the way. So it probably will be just two."

"Wow, that'll be tough." said Cindy.

"Speaking of 'tough'," said Kirkpatrick, "with Chief Griswold retired, his assistant retired, and Chief Bennett about to leave and... if I may say so... his assistant being completely untrustworthy... who should keep the voting box?"

"My assistant Helena can do that." I said. "She can be fierce under that sweet exterior of hers."

"And she has the full power of the Crowbar backing her up." Cindy said. That was the final word on the subject.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette at precisely 7:00am, Monday, November 2nd. "Channel Two News has learned that Coach Russ Bronson will be relieved of his duties as head football coach at the University today! Let's go to Chuck Pringle for the story. Chuck!"

"Thank you, Bettina." said Chuck Pringle in a 'rare' live report from the Athletic Complex at the University, every one of his graying hairs perfectly in place. "After Saturday's seventy-to-nothing humiliation at the hands of the undefeated Wildcats, the Athletic Director will have a press conference at 9:00am today to announce the firing of Coach Bronson. It is not clear who the interim coach will be, and we expect that will be announced, as well."

Pringle then went on: "In an unusual sideline to this story, Coach Bronson made a formal complaint to the Conference and to the NCAA that TCPD Commander Donald Troy taped at least one Bulldogs practice and sent that video to the Wildcats. Commander Troy is a Wildcat alumnus, but his wife is a professor at this University and of course he works for our local Police Department. Nick Eastwood asked University President Wellman about the allegation.

A tape was played of Nick Eastwood talking with Dr. Wellman, who said "Yes, we've heard of the allegation, but let's be serious, Nick: we didn't lose because a Police Officer might've seen or even taped a practice segment. We lost because the Wildcats were the better football team, and Russ Bronson failed to have our team prepared."

When Bettina came back on the screen, she said "KXTC reached out to Commander Troy for a comment. I asked him if he'd be willing to turn over his cellphone to be examined by the Conference. Commander Troy said, and I quote, 'There is no way in hell I am turning my Police cellphone, which contains sensitive criminal investigation material, over to any organization without a Court-issued warrant.'. Commander Troy said that he would have no further comment on this issue at any time going forward."

"Meanwhile, and speaking of Commander Troy, he told me that he has no new information regarding the murder of Quintus Bishop. While Ben Knight confessed to the murder and has entered a plea deal with the County District Attorney's office, Channel Two News has learned from other sources that this case could be connected to other cases in the State, including the death of Ben Knight's business partner Richard Norris in Hamilton County, as well as a drug addict, who Police have not yet named, found dead last week."

"Commander, are you guilty of those allegations?" asked Martin Nash, trying to start trouble in his very subtle way... and succeeding.

"Hell, I sent the Wildcats the entire Bulldogs' playbook." I replied with a grin. "There was no way we were going to win if I hadn't have done that."

"No, but 70 to Nothing?" Cindy Ross replied. "They ran that score up, and ran those puppies right out of the stadium."

"Not my job to keep the Wildcats from scoring." I said. "That was Coach Bronson's job... 'was' being the operative term."

"Speaking of videotape," I said, "Britt Maxwell sent us some, of an interview she did with SBI Chaplain Ikea. Let's go look at it, Captain."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 8:30 the Promotions and Medal Ceremonies took place in the main auditorium. When that was over, I went back to my office and watched the DVR of the University press conference, where the Athletic Director went through the formalities of saying that Coach Russ Bronson had been informed of his dismissal as head football coach at the University. The coach was not at the press conference. The Media looked like they were dragsters gunning their engines and waiting for the start.

As soon as the floor was opened for questions, the AD was asked about the allegations of me sending the Wildcats videos of Bulldogs practices. The AD said "Are you kidding me? First, by this time of year, teams have plenty of tape on each other. Second, the allegations were made by Coach Bronson, who was desperate to save his job. Even if the allegations were true, the fact remains that Coach Bronson did not get the job done here and was going to be let go."