tagNonConsent/ReluctanceOfficer of the Law

Officer of the Law


Melissa waited nervously at her kitchen table, fingernails making a constant clacking at her wooden table. There had been no contact in the past two days, no mention in the papers, nothing on the news. Then, this morning, she saw a report: unidentified body found in the county landfill. She didn't need for them to report anything. She knew they'd identify him eventually; dental records wouldn't lie. Then they'd show up here, and hopefully by then she'd be composed enough to get past any police questioning.

Booze always helped. She walked over to her late husband's liquor cabinet, took out the lone bottle of Malibu she kept stashed, and filled up 2/3 of a glass with the nectar. She pulled some juice out of the fridge out of habit, cleaned up, and returned to her seat, sipping away at her liquid courage. She finished quickly, prepared herself another, and began to think about lunch. Perhaps she'd have one more meal in freedom.

Fifteen minutes later, the knock came to her door.

She realized at that moment how unprepared she was for this. She'd showered this morning, fixed her hair, but couldn't find little more than a sundress to wear around the house. By now, her hair was beginning to fall flat. One of her nails was chipping from her nervous tic. Her hand shook as she set her glass down. She waited until it was still before getting up to answer the door. Taking a deep breath, she took the steps to the door, opened it, and put on her best fake smile with a hint of surprise.

"Good morning, officer. Can I help you?" The cheer in her voice sickened her, but she went on.

"Morning, ma'am. My name's Officer Baker. Ms... Smith, is it?" The officer looked incredibly fit, clean cut, with a military haircut.

"Yes, that's me. What seems to be the trouble, officer?"

"Ms. Smith, I have a few questions for you... do you mind if I step inside?"

Melissa cleared her throat. "No, not at all officer." She stepped back, directing him into the living room. He took a seat on the couch, nearest to the armchair. Melissa sat there, in her husband's seat, claiming his throne.

Officer Baker took off his hat as he entered, tucking it under his arm like he'd done time and time again. He hated delivering this news, much preferred to be out patrolling and cleaning up the streets. However, after his last case went south due to unnecessary force at arrest, he'd been assigned elsewhere temporarily. He took out a notepad, also habit, and looked Ms. Smith square in the eyes.

"Ms. Smith, I'm going to have to ask a few questions. First off, is there anyone else here, any other family members?"

"No, not at all," she said. "My husband was never able to have children, so it's just us."

"About your husband, ma'am," he said, clearing his throat. "When was the last time you heard from him?"

Melissa answered blankly. "Well, I dropped him off at the airport on Monday morning," she said, reciting the statement she'd prepared for weeks. "He's in Baltimore on business all this week."

"And he never called after that?"

Melissa chuckled. "No. I've tried telling him time and again, but he gets... very into his work. Is something the matter with Jim?

Officer Baker sighed and wiped his brow. "Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but we found a body this morning in the landfill. It was pretty beat up. We managed to get one fingerprint off of it, though."

Whoops, she thought.

"Ma'am, the body belonged to your husband. I'm terribly sorry." He was mechanical, and offered his hand to her knee as a comfort. The sundress had ridden up a bit, and he felt the soft, smooth skin of her leg.

Melissa stared blankly back at him. She felt her face getting a little pale. "J... Jim's dead? But how? I just saw him Monday..."

Officer Baker retracted his hand. "I know, Miss. I'm sure this comes as a shock to you. His body had been..."

Melissa stopped him. "No, no. I don't want to know. I... don't think I want to know."

"Understood, ma'am. Listen, since you were the last person to have interacted with him, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions..."


Melissa started to sniffle a bit, felt her tears welling up, and reached for the tissues that were on the side table. Oddly enough, the liquor made this all a bit harder. "Of... of course, Officer." She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, her face a runny mess. Thank God she hadn't put on makeup; then she'd really be a mess.

"Ma'am, what time did you drop him off at the airport?" He tried to look her in the eye, but couldn't help but look lower, into her cleavage, tucked inside her dress and exposed more as she heaved forward.

Through sniffles, she replied, "Around 7:30. He was on the 9:45 to BWI."

"Do you happen to know the airline, ma'am?"


"And you saw him get out and go into the terminal?"

Now the tears had to hit full blast. Melissa turned them on, starting to sob, barely getting out, "Yes... I said goodbye... kissed his... cheek..." She started bawling, grabbed another tissue, and covered her face, making a wet and sticky mess of the paper.

Officer Baker looked squarely at the ground in front of her bare feet. Though he'd had the same training as everyone else, this wasn't a part of him. He let her grieve for a moment, then stood up and walked to the window. He moved to his radio, and clicked the intercom. "Main office, let the people working the Smith case back there know they're going to need to head to BWI to get the passenger manifest for..."

Melissa froze. Shit. Paper trail. He had the plane ticket, didn't get on, but what if they asked for security footage next? Record of passing through homeland security? Shit shit shit. Her tears and snot came to a stop, and she wiped her face.

That was odd, Baker thought. "More details later, 10-4." He turned back to Melissa and sat down back on the couch. Now, he leaned forward, getting a little bit in her face, ignoring how the sun hit her hair, making her look angelic. But she was no angel. Something wasn't right here. He had a knack for getting those hunches.

Melissa continued to blot her eyes, but her mind racing meant she wasn't able to keep the tears running. She was frantic, and was sure her eyes showed it. Shit shit shit! This had all gone to plan so far.

"Miss, I'll need you to walk me through the events of that morning, again."

"Of... course, sir. Well, I got up around 6, put on a pot of coffee, threw on some clothes, and then drove my husband the twenty minutes to the airport. He got out, I waved goodbye, and drove..."

"Waved, from outside the car, right after you kissed him and hugged him, right?" Baker leaned in closer, before noticing something. "You been drinking this morning, ma'am?"

She gulped. "Um, yes sir..." She started to feel her words slur. Oops. Shouldn't have gone back for number two. Could have remembered that sweet wife thing. "And yes, of course, after that."

Baker continued, noting the drinking, tucking it in the back of his mind. Could mean a lot of things. "Things all right here at home, Miss? And don't lie to me, I'll be asking all of your friends, and I'm sure they'll be a lot more honest."

Another gulp. He was good. "Well, we have been drifting apart." As he drifted into string after string of whores, she thought.

"Go on."

"Well..." fuck it, may as well, she thought. "I'd found a note to another woman..."

Motive. Last to see him. Shit, she mutilated her husband's body and left it to rot. This was a hell of a lot sicker than things he dealt with on the street. "So, what's the route to BWI from here?"

This question took Melissa aback. She turned her mind from the string of women she was sure he'd felt up, kissed, let suck him off. "Well, you could take 95 to 100 around the back way, or you could just go up to 195..."

"Can't recall which way you took, can you?" Baker slipped his pad aside and reached for his handcuffs. God, she made him sick.

Melissa sat there, stiff. Goddamnit, how could he have cheated on her so many times? That good for nothing sonofabitch had it coming, and she didn't care anymore. She got a scowl on her face and looked off, away from Officer Baker.

"Want to know what I think, Ms. Smith? You can't remember that because you didn't drive to BWI that morning, you were busy dumping off your husband's body..."

"Oh, that fucker deserved everything he got."

Bingo. Baker stood up. "Ms. Smith, I'm going to need you to stand up. You're under arrest..."

"Oh, fuck no I ain't going anywhere. That motherfucker was out fucking anything that moved instead of me, he can sit and rot and I ain't going to jail."

"Ms. Smith, I'm not going to ask you again." Baker's blood started to rise. She disgusted him, he didn't care how her husband had been treating her, it wasn't illegal. But how couldn't he be sleeping with his wife? Christ, she had one of the best figures... no. She was going to have to pay for her crime. "Stand up," he said, reaching for his cuffs.

"You can call in the cavalry, honey," she giggled, the liquor fully getting to her, "I ain't going nowhere."

The rage boiled over in him. He took her by the hand, yanking her out of the chair. "Miss, you're coming with me, you're under arrest."

She tried to wrench her hand free, but his grasp was too strong. "Listen, you can do what you want to me, but God as my witness I am not the guilty one here." Actual tears started now. "You have no idea what it's like, being ignored, keeping yourself gorgeous for a man while he goes off and... dips his wick in anything that moves. I wasted my life, and he deserved that killin'."

Most of her very impassioned speech went right past him, as he was more focused on her lips, her wrist, and how he was going to get her into the cop car. It wasn't right what he did to her... he was an ass. Blood still boiling, but now in slightly a different direction, Officer Baker decided to handle this arrest a little differently.

Before she knew it, Melissa was being turned around and shoved into the couch. Fuck this, she thought, and she kicked her heel into the policeman's knee. He stuttered, but grabbed a hold of her other hand from underneath her, arm sliding over her breast as he did so. He clicked her cuffs closed, and let her lay there, face in a couch cushion.

Goddamn, this bitch was out of control, he thought. "Bitch, you're just adding on. Now it's murder and resisting arrest, you got that?" He said as he reached over, pulled her off the cushion by her hair and yelled into her face. "You have no idea what you're dealing with here, woman!"

She spat in his face. "Fuck you, asshole."

A thought flashed over Baker's mind. Don't mind if I do. He kept his eyes locked on hers, then he reached down to the hem of that sundress, yanking it up over her ass and cuffed hands. Her ass was bare, a milky white color. "Don't mind if I do," he said, completing his thought, grinning, and leaving her face.

What? Melissa was confused, but as she tried to get up using only her knees, she felt his boot clamp down on her right calf. Fuck, that hurt, she thought, but she looked up at him, watching him wipe the spit off of her face. She watched, partly in horror and partly in anticipation, as he moved to wipe that spit off on her bald pussy.

This strong man having his way with her was something she'd been missing, and she moaned as he touched her. He seemed to ignore her noise, eyes fixed on her cunt, which was starting to glisten with moisture. He quickly unzipped his pants and dropped them in one motion with his boxers, his cock springing forth, already mostly hard.

Baker lowered himself over her, lining up his cock into her hole. He looked up at her, and to his surprise she was looking back with a lust that he hadn't seen before in anyone. Out of control, he smacked her cheek. "Turn your head. Don't you fucking watch me, bitch."

Melissa bit her lip, the sting in her cheek sent a rush through her whole body. She shoved her face back into the pillow, and moved her other leg apart, giving the officer a little easier access to her.

He was surprised at how wet this cunt was already. He slipped his head inside and found that, though tight, he was able to slide himself inside with relative ease. He started drilling about half his cock in her, letting long strides take him deeper and deeper into this killer's pussy.

Moans emerged from the cushion as the officer began to plow faster. The lubricant started to slide down Melissa's leg, onto the suede couch, and covered Baker's glistening cock. Needing more, Baker reached up and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, using her as leverage to piston in and out of her harder and faster. His pants were no match for the heaving coming out of his killer, whom he was fucking for all he was worth.

Melissa had to turn her head, breathing through the couch was starting to make her short of breath. She saw an intensity in the cop's eyes as he pounded her, something she missed and desperately wanted and needed. He noticed her, though, and smacked her bare ass, hard. "I said no," he screamed.

"But I like it," she said, and she moaned "oh God, yes," as he smacked her ass again, getting the couch even more moist. "Oh God, officer, punish me. Show me how bad I've been."

The words flowed over Baker like water, and only fueled his rage. This was just, this raw fucking of this guilty woman was right, and he was going to fuck her until he was good and done. He reached back, holding himself inside, and grabbed his baton from his belt clip. As he leaned forward, sliding himself back in, picking up his pace, it was the cold leather wrapping around his nightstick that cracked her ass, leaving a long red welt. He began filling both of her ass cheeks with these marks, lustily driving himself in and out of her all the while.

The pain drove her mad. Melissa was in tears, though not entirely from pain. Though she let out yelps of pain at each one, they only made her push back on his cock more, and after several swipes, she felt her pussy clench as she came on his cock. Tired and hungry, she kept pushing, but her intensity from before couldn't be matched.

Luckily for her, her climax, her pussy milking the officer's cock, was his last straw. He angled himself upward and started pistoning more intently at her climax, and with a loud groan, buried his shaft inside her as he came, preferring to leave himself inside her until he'd finished. As his waves subsided, his cock diminished, he pulled out to a gentle moan from the killer. Leaving to find a towel, he left her a red, sticky, handcuffed disaster on the couch.

He returned before long, grabbed his pants, and started to prepare to leave, stopping to take his handcuffs back just before leaving without a word. "We'll not discuss this form of justice, isn't that right?" Baker said, looking down at her mess of a face.

Melissa could only nod, still enraptured with what had happened. As he turned to exit, her dress still halfway up her back, he heard him radio in, "Negative on that BWI check, Clarice..."

Checking his watch, he saw that he was off of his shift. He looked back at the door, wondered what would come of this meeting. He decided to radio in again, to cover himself. "HQ, go ahead and clock me out, I'm just going to follow up on a thing or two over here at the Smith murder." "10-4," came the reply, and the officer walked back to the unlocked door, entered, locked it behind himself, and looked over the woman again. No, he decided, her justice wasn't nearly done yet.

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