The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Yeah, OK, you might just say I’m one of those guys that has trouble with authority. Always have. My Mom and dad figured it out a bit too late for ‘em to do anything about it, lucky for me. Otherwise I never would’ve made it past infancy, much less to adulthood. But I don’t like to talk about that, so I won’t.

I’m also one of those guys that hates to lose. Always have, always will. Again, lucky for me it doesn’t happen often. So, you might ask, how the hell does a guy like me end up in a position like this?

It all goes back to that problem with authority and the fact that those three damned cops decided to set up their sting operation on my corner. Now, my corner isn’t any corner—it’s MY corner. Everyone in the whole damned neighborhood knows it’s my corner, but they decided to set up shop there anyway. It’s hard enough to chase away the bums and hoods that come every night to watch me get my by-pass pussy. I mean, all I ever asked for was to be left alone to do what I do—it’s not much considering all the trouble I could cause if I really wanted to. But, nooo, I guess some goody somewhere decided that all the women hanging around the corner meant it was the place where the whores hang out. Like I’d ever have to resort to that. So now you’re all dealing with it. I mean, wouldn’t YOU rather be going about your business instead of keeping me company like this?

Anyway, Officer Hooker, comes calling in her tube top, mini, and garters like anyone in the hood couldn’t tell she was anything BUT a cop. I guess they figure all the Caddies and Benzes they see parked around the area every night means that fancy folk can’t tell a cop from a whore like the rest of us can. Who knows? But, dammit, they were on MY corner, butting into MY business and, like I said, I have this problem with authority. Looking back on it now, maybe I could’ve just ignored it, but I’m not like that. Not like that at all. Besides, I like a challenge as much or more than the next guy and I hadn’t had a good one in quite a while.

So Hooker is walking along, doing her best job at pretending to strut up one side of the block and down the other and I started watching her a little closer. Not really tall for a cop, but not short either. Either had on a blonde wig or someone at the precinct can NOT do hair worth a damn. It started to bug me. I mean, REALLY bug me. So I went right up to her and asked.

“Hey, Officer, is that a wig or is your hairdresser blind?”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I really mean it. That’s either a wig or you need to find another hair girl.”

“Uh, it’s a wig.”

“Figured as much. Probably got it the same place you got the rest of the outfit, right? Take it off a dead hooker? Or did you just watch bad ‘70s cop shows when you were growing up?”

“Uh, actually, my sergeant picked it out.”

“A guy, right? Can’t imagine a sister sending you out in that outfit.” “Uh, yeah. We really shouldn’t be having this...”

“No, I guess we shouldn’t. You’re probably wired, eh?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“Cool. Where is it and how many folks you got listening?”

She quickly glanced down at her handbag. “Uh, two.”

“Geez, great budget they got you on. Kinda explains the outfit.”

“Really, you need to get out of here before...”

“Before what? ‘Sergeant ‘70s’ gonna come haul my butt off for harassing one of his finest?”

“Well, yeah, kinda...”

Like I said, I have this problem with authority. Don’t like being threatened either. So I put my head down at purse level and yelled.

“Hey, Mr. ‘70s Cop Show Sergeant, I’m gonna take your cute friend here into my alley and introduce her to Mr. Chuckles!! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just keep eating your donuts for another 15 minutes or so before you come looking for her!”

Officer Hooker took a few steps back into the street and clutched her purse. I really wonder about police training nowadays, she almost got run over by a passing Toyota. Probably would’ve too, if I hadn’t grabbed her arm with one hand while getting out Mr. Chuckles with the other. She recovered fairly quickly and started fumbling in her purse for either a gun or a badge. Never found out which.

“All right, mister. That’s enough!”

“Geez, Officer, I haven’t even gotten started yet. By the way, Mr. Chuckles says hello.”

“You’re under arrest. You have the right to...”

Her head glanced down to my fly as she continued. This is always my favorite part. I’m no porn star, but I get by. But the looks on their faces as they start to understand what I’m all about is, as they say in those credit card commercials—priceless.

“...remain silent. Put that thing away before you get in more trouble, mister.”

“Oh, come on, Miss Officer Hooker, I’m not in no trouble.” I said as I gently walked her backwards toward my alley.

“Anything you say can...” Mr. Chuckles was pretty hard now and he was definitely smiling.

“Oh, I think I’ve said enough.” I continued moving backwards and she kept her eyes glued on Mr. Chuckles.

“...and will be used against you in a court of law. I don’t know how you’re doing this, but you’d better stop it right now!”

“Oh, come on, Miss Officer, you were just getting to the good part. Don’t stop on my account.” We were in the alley now and she removed the hand from her purse and brought it to her tank top.

“You have the right to an attorney.” Her fingers of one hand slid along the top of her tank while her other tweaked her right nipple through the thin fabric. She wasn’t the largest in the boob department, but it doesn’t take much to show off a tank top.

“If you cannot afford one...” She lowered the tank to her waist. Yeah, she was OK for a cop. They kinda stuck straight out and didn’t sag much. Really small nipples. But, hey, she looked like she loved ‘em all the same and, right now, they were showing their affection by poking out right at me.

“One will be appointed for you...” I found my mattress and sat down, admiring the view. The hoods and bums know to stay away, but I figured some of them had to be watching this from above. Kinda made me more excited, actually. I stopped having to show off a long time ago, but still get a little thrill out of it. Gets me a lot of respect. I like that.

One of her hands went to her hair, and she slowly removed that awful hair. “Do you understand these rights?” Good old red hair. I like red hair.

“Uh, Miss Officer Hooker, can you explain them a little more for me? Especially the part about what I say can be used against me. I’ve never been arrested before.”

She continued to play with her nipples as her purse slipped off her shoulder to the ground. Even in her current frenzy, I could tell she was puzzled by the question.

“Uh, I guess. If you were to say anything right now, I could testify about it.” One hand now moved from her boobs to her skirt.

“So if I told you I thought you look pretty good for a cop, you’d be able to find a way to use it against me?” Both hands now pushed the skirt down off her hips. Plain white panties. Figures.

“I suppose so. But I really can’t see...umh.” One hand found it’s mark. She gasped a tiny gasp, despite herself. Quite cute, really.

“And if I told you I think your ass is nice and firm...for a cop...you’d testify to it?” One of her hands was running down the length of her thigh as she turned her back to me and began to bend over...

“Uhh, yeah, I...I guess if we went to court...uhh...” As she bent over, her smallish boobs pointed straight at the ground and her right hand continued to massage herself though her panties. Suddenly, they weren’t so white anymore. I smiled at that.

“And if I said that your lips looked like they’d suck a pretty mean cock...for a cop...you’d get on the stand and tell it to a jury?”

She turned back towards me, still bent over at the waist and stared at Mr. Chuckles for a tiny fragment of a second. “I...I guess I’d have to do that too.”

“I dunno. Looks can be deceiving, or so I’ve heard.” She bent down to her knees and took me in her hands and, again, she hesitated.

“Please, mister, I don’t know what I’ve done to you...”

“You picked the wrong fucking corner to harass,” I managed to get out before she engulfed Mr. Chuckles. And that was pretty much the end of the Q&A session, because he just HATES being interrupted.

She wasn’t the best I’d had. Hell, I can’t even remember the best I’d had, seeing as I’d done something like this at least twice a night for as long as I can remember. But she was pretty good...for a cop. Unfortunately, Mr. Chuckles has grown so used to getting swallowed day in and day out that he can’t cough up that way anymore. So after five or six minutes of that kind of fun, I reluctantly pushed her head away and moved her around. Besides, this way I got to ask more questions.

I LOVE asking questions and actually getting honest answers.

By this time, her white panties were, well, pretty gray and down around one foot or another. Despite frigging her cunt like crazy, she still hadn’t cum. I was saving that. Dunno, why, really, but I just hadn’t found exactly the right time for it.

“Do you enjoy being a cop?” I said as she turned her back to me and proceeded to lower herself on me.

“Uh, yeah, though not...right now.” I had to laugh out loud at that one. Amazing how she kept her wits despite frigging her cunt for five minutes and screwing a stranger in an alleyway. I’ve had a few like that, but most are like you, they just shut down and don’t give me much other than simple answers. They’re no fun. No fun at all.

“The people you work with, they treat you pretty good?” She slid all the way down me and Mr. Chuckles was happy once again.

“Most of...them...are OK. I do...OK.” Damn, she was tight. Hadn’t had one quite that tight since that Catholic School Band bus came through on their way to the state championships. Officer Hooker obviously worked out, too. It was hard not to notice the ripples of her thighs as she moved them up and down.

For some reason, I checked my watch for the time. I knew this was an enjoyable session, but not THAT enjoyable. The 15 minutes was just about up.

Oh, well, in for a dime, in for a dollar, or so my Pops used to say.

“How about the two guys you’re working with now?” She slowed down now, but I was getting more and more excited.

“Uh, they’re...OK.” This one’s vocabulary needed some serious help. Oh, well, can’t expect Tupak or anything from a woman cop humping you in an alley.

“No, I mean, specifically. You hot for either one of them?” She slowed down even more.

“Uh, no way. Gilbert’s too damned...uhh...old...uhh...and Sergeant Dias is just an ahhh...asshole.”

Ah, so ‘Sergeant ‘70s’ had a name. This might be fun after all. “C’mon, you mean you’ve never thought about fucking either of them? Not even for a second or two?”

“Uh, of course not. It’s....ahhhh.....it’s against regulations.”

Her breathing began to get more labored. I think she was finally getting tired. Not that I cared, of course. But she was due for a break anyway, when the lights from the police car broke the darkness and the screeching of wheels pierced the relative silence of the alley. At least the viewing public was being quiet this time.

I could barely make out the silhouettes of two figures framed against the glare of the headlights.

“Whoever you are, drop your weapon and release the officer!!!! NOW!!”

Must have been the asshole. ‘Drop your weapon,’ indeed. Not likely. Officer Hooker moved one hand up to shield her eyes, but kept sliding up and down on Mr. Chuckles. I likewise cupped my hand over my eyes and paid attention to business. I was pretty close now...

The two officers moved in closer, their weapons drawn. Just as they got to within ten feet, I finally let Officer Hooker loose. I’ve listened to some nasty orgasms in my time, but they probably heard this one all the way back at the precinct house.

Her purse was a good two feet away and I imagine it burnt out the wire.

They’re probably still passing copies of that tape around the boroughs to this day.

Might be a nation-wide police-network Top 40 hidden microphone hit for all I know.

And despite two cops with drawn guns in my alleyway, on my corner, I could hear applause coming from the homies, near and far, but the loudest came from the windows and rooftops right above me.

That was one freakin’ GREAT orgasm. A true work of art.

Oh, yeah, and I came too.