Power Failure

The following is a fantasy of nonconsensual sex. The author wishes to stress that any act without full prior consent is rape, and should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. This is my fantasy, if you are disturbed by scenes of policewoman being abused by prisoners, then stop reading now.

The prosecution of the Butcher brothers, the notorious pimps that had been behind the last six years worth of kidnapping of university girls. The girls had emerged months after their capture, in other provinces or in the United States, even Asia, stripping and hooking in clubs owned by the Butcher Brothers or their affiliated gangs.

Each girl confirmed they had been kidnapped by Jonathan, Jarrod, and Jamie, and kept for them for a week before they were sold to bike gangs or traded to drug cartels in exchange for cooperation with their drug, gun, and money laundering schemes.

The problem came when the girls were asked to testify about their rape and trafficking into prostitution. Each girl, whom had been scholarship students at the local university, each in the top ten percent of the student population for intelligence as well as beauty, refused to testify against the Butcher brothers for rape or kidnapping.

Again and again, they pleaded with investigators "Not to punish Sirs for instructing us as to our natural and proper use as whores. We didn't deserve their instruction and offering them the money we make can't even begin to pay the debt to Sirs for teaching us our place."

Lt Jessica Holstein had been working vice for years, working her way off the hooker stroll where her tight ass and DD breasts placed her for far too long, half for her ability to get Johns to lose all sense of self preservation when bidding for her services, and half because every man in the department wanted to see her dressed like street meat.

In recent years she had been able to lead her own investigations and gone swiftly after the men behind the sex trafficking, rather than punishing the girls and the end users, she went after the groomers. She knew all the tricks, the beatings, the drugs, and how to undo the psychological damage. No woman wanted to be a prostitute, but brutalized badly enough, she might convince herself to pretend to, if only to make the beatings stop.

The drug scans came back negative, the girls were clean. Any medical tests she could do failed to show any evidence of bone breaks not consistent with the competitive sports careers and documented injuries that won half of the girls the scholarships they had won. None of their accounts listed beatings, starvation, or threats of serious violence. How were the Butcher brothers taking smart, strong, motivated and proud over achievers and reducing them to not only willing, but eager prostitutes who refused to testify against their abusers. Indeed, they were all offering cooperation only if they were granted conjugal visits with the abusers who sold them into sexual slavery.

Jessica had to know what the Butchers were using. Some untestable drug? Some hypnotic conditioning? A form of torture that left no permanent marks? The Butchers were going down for the drug trafficking, the guns, the money laundering, but what she needed from them was the missing piece; how were they grooming girls with the whole world at their feet to give it up to be street walking whores.

There was no alternative. Jessica would have to question the pond scum herself. They were used to holding all the power with women. It was time to see how they performed when a strong feminist woman held the power over them.

Jessica decided to put on her dress uniform for this interrogation. She could have worn plain clothes like the Crown Attorneys who had come and tried to alternately bribe or threaten each of the brothers to turn on the rest, or their suppliers. Following in the line of losers was a great way to join them. Likewise, the tac armoured thugs had had their chance, but the fact each interrogation was filmed meant the Butcher brothers knew any actual violence would result in their walking free of all charges, so that symbolic power had been robbed of its punch as well.

No, Jessica Holstein would use her dress uniform. Tailored to within an inch of legality, it was the outfit the department loved her to use when dealing with the press. It hugged and almost seemed to melt to her curves, from her washboard flat stomach to her 38DD breasts, the heavy gold detective shield drew every eye to her breast and coincidentally the over sized name tag so no one could forget who she was talking to.

Her choice to wear skirt and heels, something she had initially fought against for the press speaking engagements was all about emphasizing her femininity and power both. The heels were the limit of regulation at four inches, and made her already toned legs look even better, while popping her bubble butt into fabric threatening relief against the tailored dress blue skirt. Her choice to use stockings drew every eye to her skirt when she walked, as her stocking tops flashed at the skirts slit with each long bold stride.

Let these two-bit pimps see a real woman in the fullness of her power. Not pretending to be a man, hiding behind a suit, or behind body armour. Let them deal with her authority, without hiding behind the threat of violence everyone knew she was not empowered to deliver. They were in her power, and it was time they understood that.

Looking at the officers in the holding area, she felt their eyes washing over her rich curves and sneered. These were the scum of the service, those whose pathetic physique, questionable ethics, and even more dubious ability made useless for any form of front-line service. Looking after the prisoners in lockup was about the only use of them, and that was marginal.

"I want all three of the Butcher brothers into the special interrogation room. One at each table." Jessica ordered coolly.

The special interrogation room had three side by side tables with electronic shackles in the table middle. The locks were controlled from outside, being electronic, and fastened gently but firmly to hold the subject's wrists in place on the table, and kept the prisoner facing forward towards the interrogator.

There was no glass between them, no divide, and the prisoner's helplessness was meant to reenforce the power of the one free to get up and move around. It was a tool of psychological dominance.

The fat guard, Sgt Stallings, typed the orders into his computer, then looked up at the hot Lt. "Well ma'am, how many of my boys are you going to want in the room to keep them docile. These boys have all done some damage here in lockup. Some gang rivals tried taking the Butcher's down a peg, and most of them ended up in the hospital."

Lt Jessica Holstien sneered at the slovenly, openly drooling holding cell guards and let her contempt drip off her reply. "I don't need any men to help me keep those boys in line. It may take a dozen of you to keep three of them in line, but you will find one woman can handle all three of them."

Jonathan, Jarrod, and Jamie sat in their prison orange jumpsuits, smirking as they held their arms in the table electronic shackles until the engaged. Jessica leaned down and allowed each a look at her uniforms deep cleavage as she slowly undid the handcuffs and added them to her belt, leaving each secured only by the table shackles. She ran her hand up one arm, across the back, and down the other arm of each brother as she sauntered lazily to the next, high heels tapping on the tile floor as she moved behind them, forcing them to twist to try to track her. It was a dominance game, she was free to move, they were helpless and pinned. She gave an extra sway to her walk. They had been in lock up for long enough to have been without longer than they had probably been without since they were weaned, and she planned on rubbing their nose in it.

They were hard swarthy men, buzz cuts and unshaven, they had the look of stripped down lions, but she had these lions trapped, and it was time to find out just what they had done to all those pretty young gazelles.

"So, the big tough Butcher boys. Some of my superiors have been talking about shopping you to the Americans for some little enforcement issues you had down in Miami. Florida still has the death penalty, and they are a little upset with you." Lt Jessica Holstein almost sang in a happy little sing song, before sliding into the chair opposite Jarrod.

Jarrod laughed. "That narc was undercover as a dealer from the group that jumped one of my mules. Take it as a compliment, he was convincing. So convincing he is about six feet further undercover now."

Jonathan and Jarrod laughed as Jessica's face slid into a hard smile.

"They want you, and they have the death penalty. They use it for piece of shit gangsters who kill cops. The one you offed was from a pretty well-known family, big donors to the governors campaign, they are pretty confident that your passage through their justice system will be smooth like it's running on rails."

Nothing like being able to use corruption to scare gangsters. They may not believe in the law, but they believed in corruption. Now they were staring at her with hard, desperate looks. She had the power, time to make her play.

"I have a problem, you have a problem. I have a question I need answered, and you don't want to get a needle in the arm and twitch your way into a pauper's grave in the everglades. Why don't we see if you can make me happy enough about my problem, that I make yours go away."

Jonathan and Jarrod both began to snarl and make threats, causing Jessica to smile as they pulled against the soft electronic shackles. They were padded on the inside, and thick steel on the outside. Magnetic clamps designed to allow any amount of force to be applied without causing any harm. The strongest weightlifter in the world would be as helpless as a five-year-old in them.

Jamie watched Lt Jessica Holstein flush and arch her back as his brothers fought against their restraints, glorying in her power over them. He smiled. He knew this game. This was HIS game. He slid one of his soft shoes over to her high heeled feet and gently caressed her ankle.

"Oh my pretty little dick-tective, I know I can make you happy. I think we can make it worth your while to make our problem go away." Jamie let his full bedroom voice, low with the promise of every forbidden desire fill his answer. Jessica turned, angrily to face him. He let her defiant glare hammer into his eyes, and in return gave her a very slow and appreciative once over, giving a slow wolf whistle as he mentally undressed her.

"You are a fine piece of street meat, and you have no idea how good I am at keeping your kind happy."

Lt Holstein raised her hand to slap him but stopped as he smirked at her and continued.

"Ah, ah, ah Lt Holstein. That fat fuck Sgt Stallings may not be good for much, but he has this room wired from every angle, picture and sound, and if you were to strike me for just sitting here, that big udder of yours will lose it's gold shield. Hey, did you change your name to Holstein when those tits grew in, or are your whole family big milkers, because my clubs could really use those tits on stage." Jamie smirked.

Jessica got herself under control, her anger roused enough it never occurred to her to ask how the Butcher Brother knew it was Sgt Stallings in the mirrored control room, since he never entered the room or had any contact with the prisoners. That oversight came back to her on a nightly basis for the months to come.

"Listen you little punk," Jessica hissed. "I have a dozen girls you kidnapped and sold into prostitution. They admit you kidnapped them, admit you used them, admit you sold them, admit they worked for you, your clients, or people you sold them to like some sort of animal, but they refuse to testify against you for rape, refuse to tell me what kind of drug you used on them to turn them from proud feminists with bright futures ahead of them to bimbo's who think the only thing they have to offer the world is three holes and the eagerness to use them. I need to know what you did, how you did it, so I can protect other girls against the next piece of shit like you."

Jamie looked up at the clock above the interrogation table, saw that time was coming up on the hour very shortly and sighed. "Tempus Fugit, time marches on Lt. I guess if we want to avoid the needle, we need to feed you something solid, right?" Jamie asked.

Jarrod and Justin started chuckling, but Jessica sensed the power shifting, he wasn't taunting her anymore. Now it was time for the kill.

"You need to feed me something solid, something big, something that satisfies me completely or you and your brothers are going to face the needle. Now, can you do that, right here, right now, because if I leave the room unsatisfied, the deal is off the table, and you are on the next plane." Jessica leaned forward, her big blue eyes staring into the flat brown ones of the Jamie Butcher. He looked up at the clock, saw the second hand reaching towards the top and sighed, slumping as if in defeat.

"Nothing in writing, because we both know the Crown Attorney's office for sale to every bidder, not just the highest. You are asking me to take your word against our lives. Will you take my hands, look me in the eye and promise me that if I tell you, if I show you how I made those girls so desperate to be my whores that no one could convince them to turn against me, then you will make sure extradition is out of the question?" Jamie asked. He leaded forward, on the edge of his seat, eyes burning into hers.

Jessica leaned forward, her police dress blues showing a lot of cleavage as she took his hands.

"Give me everything, and you will never leave the country." Lt Jessica Holstien said, face almost touching Jamies. The second hand swept to the top, the clock ticked over on the hour, and the lights flickered.

Justin and Jamie yanked their hands back in a coordinated move when the lights flickered, but Jamie grasped Jessica's proffered hands and puller her arms forward as the lights flickered and the power to the room failed for one critical moment, along with the magnets of the cuffs.

Squeaking in surprise, she bent half over the table as she became unbalanced, her wrists replacing Jamies in the electronic shackles as the failing main power was switched with the backup generator, and the escape proof cuffs reengaged.

Now Jessica was bent forward over the table, hands locked in the cuffs, as the three Butcher Brothers, gangsters and pimps circled her like hungry lions.

"Ah, my sweet little dick-tective. I am a man of my word. I promised you that I would show you what I did to teach those uptight little college girls they were meant to be nothing but eager little cock-sucking sluts, earning money in my clubs and for my boys. I also promised that fat corrupt fuck Sgt Stallings, that if he gave me some quality time alone with you, when I was done, you would walk into his shitty little control room, get on your knees, those big double d tits out, and blow his mind." Jamie adjusted her dress uniform's cap on her head, and trailed a finger down her cheek, even as Justin took the three sets of handcuffs at her belt and used them to secure one of her ankles to the table, leaving the other leg free. Jarrod ran a hand over her tight, well muscled ass, giving an appreciative murmur, before giving it a nice test slap.

"You can't think you are going to get away with hurting me, I am a police lieutenant!" Jessica Holstein cried, not liking how much it came out like a plea, not a power statement.

Jamie grabbed her by the throat and kissed her long and hard. His right hand mauled her breast casually, lazily taking possession of what was his as she tugged helplessly against the restraints.

Jessica felt helpless. A few seconds ago, she held all the power, then the power failed for one second, and now she was powerless, bound and helpless in the hands of three of the most notorious gangsters and pimps in recent history.

Jamie kissed her through the moan of her defeat, his tongue raping her mouth as his hands forced her dress blues and the half cup bra she wore under them up to expose the 38DD she had been taunting the Butcher brother's with mere minutes ago.

She felt her legs being spread, and her police issue dress skirt pulled up above her ass.

"You want to know what we did to them sluts? We didn't need no drugs. The difference between a smart piece of ass and a stupid piece of ass is that a smart piece of ass can figure out what she is when she is shown proper. Those girls, we did them a favour, teaching them what they was, while they were still young enough to make a proper go of it, not waiting until they was old and dried up, and trying to get some useless wanker drunk enough in the pub to give her tired old ass a pity shag." Jonathan said as he kneaded her round tanned ass, burying his face between her cheeks and nuzzling at her string covered asshole.

Jarrod grabbed her by her free ankle and raised her leg up, tilting her body, offering her ass to Jonathan as he dropped her ankle on his shoulder and began running his hands over her stocking clad runner's legs. "God, she has a dancer's legs and ass. Once we train her up a bit, she might not be a total waste like the rest of these sad sack cops."

Jamie kept his hand on Jessica's throat, letting her helplessness sink in. He made no attempt to silence her as she screamed for help. He brought her breast to his mouth and began to lick and suck on her generous and sensitive nipples.

Jarrod ripped off Jessica's blue thong, pulling it to his nose to smell the scent of her arousal. She had been getting off on her power trip with them. Only fair, everyone would be getting off on their power trip now. He let his hands caress her legs, unbuckling the high heeled shoe to begin kissing and sucking on her stocking clad toes.

Jamie let her cries for help sound until it began to sink in that Sgt Stallings was watching her violation from the booth and not interested in helping. He was counting on them breaking her, and waiting for his turn.

As her mind struggled to accept that she was powerless, a detective Lt in the heart of the police precinct now being ravished by three professional pimps who had made a living from breaking strong intelligent women into nothing more than pretty fuck dolls for whoever wanted to put their body to use, Jamie began talking.

"You came in here dressed like a slut, you asked to be alone with us, you sent all your little cop friends away because they didn't impress you. You wanted to be alone with us because you wanted to challenge us. You thought you were woman enough to handle all three of us, and you are right. You are going to take all three of us, in every way. I keep my promises. I will show you what we did to those girls, and when I am done, you will do absolutely anything to get another taste." Jamie said, before kissing her firmly again.

Jessica squealed as her ass cheeks were parted and Jonathan began to rim her tight little asshole, cupping her pussy gently in his hand, feeling its warmth. Like a master chef, he knew how important it was to preheat your oven before you put in your meat.

Jarrod was sucking on her toes, running his hands along her delicate ankle, shapely calf. Jessica had always loved to have her legs touched but would never admit to a lover that she had a bit of a foot fetish. Good girls didn't admit they rode their vibrators watching women sucking each other's toes.

"I am not those little bitches, if you rape me, I will testify, and I will see you sent to Florida for the fucking needle!" Jessica hissed as she defied the Butcher Brothers. Her defiance ended with a moan torn from her by the dancing tongue of Jonathan, who had teased her tight virgin asshole open and was using his tongue to tease her depths, teaching her to seek and find pleasure in anal violation. He felt Jessica starting to heat against his hand and felt her pussy start to push against his hand, seeking to put pressure on her sex as she unconsciously sought to ease the building hunger.