Trouble With The Law

She drove home nervously, checking her mirrors almost compulsively, back roads dark, no street lights to relieve the weight of sky.  Her anxious hand fluttered away from the steering wheel to smooth the tiny skirt against her thighs.

She jumped and her heart began to pound when she saw flashing lights in her rearview mirror.

*Perhaps it is for a criminal, or a fire, or…*

She pulled her car to the shoulder, hoping the lights would pass.

No such luck.

She sighed and rolled down her window, leaning across the stickshift to fish her registration card out of the glove box, unaware that her ass was now on display for the officer just walking up.

“Evening, ma’am.  License and registration?”  He looked at her neutrally.

She pursed her lips and handed them over.

“Is there a problem?  I was going the speed limit…” she trailed off at his stern expression.

“Please step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

She got worried, but opened her door and stepped out.

He grabbed her by the wrist and spun her to face the car, shoving her roughly against the closed passenger door and trapping her other wrist in his hand as her body absorbed the impact.  She felt cold metal wrap around her wrists, heard the click of a lock.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she faltered.

She was shoved roughly towards the police car, but without use of her hands, felt the slap of the hood rise up to meet her face.  She was stunned for a moment, and realized her legs were being kicked apart.

“We’re checking every car that comes through here.  Someone has been smuggling drugs into this county, and we’re going to put a stop to it,”  He said it dispassionately.

She felt his hands roughly pulling her shirt from the band of her skirt, sliding up between the cups of her bra and her breasts.  The fingers roughly pinched her nipples, but too hard to be considered sexual by most.

Secretly, she liked it.  She refused to moan, but felt moisture in response.

The hands lifted her skirt away from her ass, roughly covering every inch of skin.

“No panties with a skirt this short?  Someone is a naughty girl.”

She flushed, face pressed against the car hood.  She hoped no one drove by and saw her like this, ass in the air, skirt bunched around her waist.

She sucked in a breath as she felt something hard press against the lips of her wet pussy.  She couldn’t stop the moan as it penetrated her, coming to a slow stop at her cervix.

She squirmed, trying to turn her head to look at the officer.  She saw him with his nightstick in hand, smirk on the handsome face.

He saw her looking at him.  “Lower your eyes, bitch,” he growled.

She returned her cheek to the hood and felt the object slide back out, just as slowly as it was inserted.

“Like that, did you?”  He chuckled.  “You’re such a horny little slut, I didn’t even need to use lubricant.  Pinched those nipples once, showed that ass to the world, and that filthy little cunt got sopping wet, didn’t it?”

She sucked a breath in through her teeth as the hard shaft suddenly rammed all the way into her.  She tried not to respond, but her hips lifted slightly, inviting the thrust.

“What a disgusting whore you are,” he said.

He grabbed her by the hair and puller her head back to him, forcing her back to arch as the nightstick pinned her in place.

“Do you know what I do to dirty whores?”  He breathed the words in her ear, softly, menacingly.

He shoved her face back into the car hood, slid the sopping wet stick out of her pussy, and brought it down across her ass.

The wetness added to the stinging sensation and she cried out with the abrupt force of it.  She felt more blows rain down until her ass and thighs were throbbing.

Suddenly, there was silence and a cool breeze fluttered across her hot skin.

She heard the creaking of leather and a snap.

“How naughty have you been, little slut?”

She moaned as she felt her wrists jerked upwards and the hardness of a cock slide into her dripping pussy, sheathing to its base on the first fast thrust.

He fucked her roughly, mercilessly, not even slowing as her body spasmed around his, climaxing hard.

Suddenly he stopped, and using the leverage of her wrists, swung her to the ground, where she sprawled indelicately.

He looked down on her contemptuously, grabbed cock in hand, and shot the stream of his orgasm across her face, her clothing.

“I don’t cum in dirty little whores,” he said, and reached down to uncuff her hands.

She wrapped her arms around his legs and rubbed her cheek against him.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said.

Christmas bunny has been exploring kink since she was legal to do so.  Her serious writing started in college, where she accidently got some of her papers published in educational journals.  She has recently expanded her writing to include her kink journey.  She began writing in the physical realm, but shed some of her inhibitions and began sharing those entries with others.  She now keeps an active blog of her personal growth and her relationship with her Master / Daddy Dominant and writes helpful educational posts on a variety of subjects.