Date: Wed, 20 Mar 2024 00:02:45 -0700 From: Hey All Subject: Police Debauchery (bisexual, authoritarian) "Police Debauchery" by HeyAll Nifty can be supported here, every dollar counts. https://donate.nifty.org Support my work on Patreon for custom/exclusive content. What would you like to read? I can accommodate you. Tips appreciated. https://www.patreon.com/HeyAllStories https://twitter.com/HeyAllStories xxx It's true that male police officers under heavy stress turn to alcohol or prescription drugs as a coping mechanism. These vices offer a temporary escape from a dangerous job. For women, another dysfunctional coping strategy includes risky sexual behavior. It's an uncomfortable topic because a woman's sexuality remains taboo. My name is Dr. Varma and my role in the police department is crucial to supporting the mental health of this city's officers. It's my life's work. My calling. I'm proud to say that I've helped countless lives over my career. I'm also a self-diagnosed nymphomaniac. I've come to this conclusion years ago, ironically, as a result of this job. Listening to female officers confess their darkest sexual encounters and fantasies was a revelation. I found myself soliciting more information and when they'd leave I'd masturbate behind my desk, right then and there, leaving a mess that I'd clean with a paper towel. My day takes a turn for the better when Detective Monaghan comes to my office and takes a seat. She's one of my favorites. Tall, sharp tongued, intelligent. She's always appreciative of me because I helped her become a detective at age 33 with favorable evaluations, even though she didn't deserve it yet. I saw something in her. Something is weighing on her heart. Her body language and eyes are always expressive, especially here when she can let her guard down. "Don't write anything down today," she says. "Nothing on your computer, either." "My notes are always secure, but sure, this won't be documented. Why? What's on your mind?" "State Police made me an offer a few days ago. They want me to do an undercover job. They like how I look. My body. They know I have familiarity with this small town about 50 miles away. They're looking at a series of crimes; misuse of State funds, bribery, hard drugs, rumors of murders. All in one town." "That sounds like quite the case." "I should be all over it. Something like that could make my career." "What's the problem?" She looks me straight in the eyes. "My step-father is an Irish gangster who helps run the crime scene over there. Of course, State Police don't know this. If they did, they wouldn't be offering me the job." "Now that makes sense. You referenced your step-father in our previous meetings. He was the reason you became a cop." "That's right." "Did he molest you? Beat your mother?" "I would have killed him if that were true. My mother was a sweet woman, I guess she needed excitement in her life, that's why she married him. She changed after that. Seeing her do book keeping for those people, it brought something nasty out of me. I hated it." "Now you see this case as a chance for revenge, to get your step-father, but you know it's a delicate dance. You could be opening Pandora's box. That's why you're telling me this." "That's right, Dr. Varma, so what should I do?" I ask Detective Monaghan for more details and she explains this fact-finding mission. The pros and cons for her. The alleged crimes State Police wants to look into. She tells me about the prostitution rings in that community, how her step-father used to run them with mom's help. It piques my interest because the case would bring her to the den of sex, with all sorts of perverted possibilities. We'd previously discussed her twisted fantasies of being gang banged. That's always been her coping mechanism. She wanted to know why stressful days and life/death situations would lead to nights of masturbation. Sometimes she'd arrive at her apartment, strip down, and finger herself in the bedroom. Her darkest thoughts are men taking turns on her. She never explained why, but now it makes sense. No wonder she hates her step-father. Later I'll find a connection between her upbringing and her sexual outlet. For now, I'm thinking of the offer Detective Monaghan had received. She could easily crack this case on behalf of State Police and become a rising star because she already has inside info on the town. But it could also destroy her. I respect Detective Monaghan's wishes by not documenting any of this information, but if I did, the file would be called "The Ethics of Revenge." xxxxx It's tourist season so the Bar & Grill is more crowded than usual this afternoon. Tourists mingle with locals at the location by the lake. People having drinks. Men flirting with women. People preparing their boats. Solo travelers looking to have a getaway. Monaghan is one of those women, but people call her `Katie' and she's happy to socialize. She tells people she's a burned out city worker on a brief vacation. There are plenty of cute women around, but Monaghan turns heads. She's fit the way athletes are fit. Besides her figure, men like that she's the first to tell dirty jokes. By her third day, it's a busy weekend day and she notices that a particular local man in his 50's is popular with the tourists. They approach him, slip him a small bundle of cash, and the man slips a tiny bag in exchange. She doesn't need to inquire further to know what this is. For the rest of the day she follows that man from afar. At a glance everything about him appears normal. He drinks and laughs with friends, occasionally makes conversations with tourists who head to the lake, even gives advice about the best spots for fishing. He shakes hands with town leaders, including city council members. It's easy for Monaghan to get the man's name and home address. He lives on a small farm a few miles away, deep into the forest area. So by late afternoon, in her hotel room, she puts on running wear and prepares to make a short trip. She brings a balaclava mask, a camera, and a small case with lock picking tools. Buildings here are old, so getting through locked doors is nothing. She decides whether or not to bring her gun, and she makes the decision to holster it in her waist -- just in case. The sun is going down as she runs alongside the main road and takes shortcuts with hiking trails. It will be dark soon but she's already got the pathways mapped out, so timing should be fine if she sticks with the plan. She has an hour of daylight left when she reaches the outer perimeter of the farm. She's sweating and breathing heavily. One thing she's learned is that when organizations get too comfortable, when they have everyone in their pocket, they tend to let their guard down. Penetration becomes easier. Monaghan reaches for her balaclava mask and wears it. Then she gets her camera and zooms to case the property. She notices a few "No Trespassing" signs with skull and crossbones symbols. An unsettling silence hangs in the air, and when she listens carefully, she can hear the faint rhythmic hum of what sounds like industrial ventilation coming from a large barn. There are also drum barrels with hazardous markings. This isn't your typical farm; something else is happening. Her plan to sneak into the property ends when she spots cameras guarding the two barns. She takes several pictures of the perimeter then leaves. She removes her mask and starts running on the hiking trail in the woods again. It's almost dark by the time she returns to town and her body is covered in sweat. As she gets closer to the hotel, men wave at her, smiling. She smiles back. The following afternoon she attends a bar near the lake where people like to have a quick meal or drink before heading off with their boats. It's Sunday, which means there's a dance competition, the kind meant for adults to have fun and for women to let loose. The establishment is co-owned by her step-father and run by those in that circle. Monaghan, adhering to the flamboyant theme of the event, buys a cheap pair of stockings and heels from a local shop. She wears them with tiny blue jean shorts and a white tshirt with flower symbols on the front. Her dancing skills are limited but she has a killer body. It's loud as people cheer and holler for each performer. The event is meant to be more fun than sexy, though being sexy is what makes the crowd go wild. When it's Monaghan's turn, she dances wildly to rock music, kicking her heels in the air, working her long legs. The crowd is loving the sight of a physically fit woman breaking out moves with heels on. She makes sure to lock eyes with the bar manager, flickering her tongue in his direction, seducing him. She loses the competition but it doesn't matter because her performance was the star of the show. The other competitors also wore risque outfits, but Monaghan went the extra mile and she has the body for it. She was all smiles and laughter as men gave her high fives. As she hangs around with a drink in hand, a man approaches her, late 50's perhaps, rough around the edges. The man is a low-key Irish mobster, the kind Monaghan can spot a mile away, and he's constantly around the bar owners. "Can I get you another round?" he asks. "I don't know, that depends. I don't usually accept drinks from strangers." "Then how about we get to know each other? I'll make it worth your while." "Sure, that works." A while later they agree to have a walk on the outskirts of the lake. Tourists are out, families are out, everyone is having a good time and they have privacy. When the small talk is done, the tone shifts to a more serious one. "You lookin' to earn a little extra money on the side?" Lucas says. "We could use a body like yours. We like the way you move." "What makes you think I'm for sale?" "Come on, the way you flaunt it. I know a `for sale' sign when I see one." "I'm not for sale, but I'm open to doing business." Lucas smiles, "That's what I like hearing. Guys have been asking about you lately, that body of yours. Do you work the pole?" "That's all you're offering? Some work on the pole?" "That's usually for starters. Would you let guys rub you? Call it a group massage, guys really want to touch you, those lean muscles of yours. Let's say, 300 bucks. If that works out, we can bump that up to 500 for other things." "What other things are you talking about?" "Fucking, sucking, all up to you. It's a square deal. At the end of your stay, you can go back to wherever you came from. No one will ever know. Town secret, eh? And you get a pocket full of cash." "I have some experience, so I'll think about it. It sounds like you have interesting friends and I'd like to meet them." Their conversation ends and all Monaghan thinks about is the man saying `town secret' because it hits something close to her heart. What has her hometown become? She used to live here, but that was in another life. Over a decade ago. She refuses to see her mother and bastard step-father even though they still live in the area. Later the next morning she goes on a five mile run through the trails to clear her head. More than anything, it helps her think, to stay sharp. Focused. When she gets back to her hotel room, she showers and then gives her body a quick rub with a towel. She sits naked on the bed and makes a phone call. "Hey, it's me," she says. "Good to hear from you. Anything new on your end?" "I've been solicited to join -- what I believe to be -- the prostitution ring. We could bust this guy, work him over and get the whole network." "That's all you've got? Prostitution?" "No, I also have pictures of what appears to be a cook house. I have pictures of industrial grade ventilation shafts and drum barrels of hazardous materials. The owner of the property is a dealer from what I could see." "You're in small town America, of course people have barrels. Do you have anything that would stick in court? Anything that won't get tossed on appeal?" "Not yet, but..." "I'm going to stop you there," he says. "This operation isn't producing the results we were hoping for." "But..." "The guys who run Major Crimes are losing faith in this. There were more budget cuts last week and our resources are diminished." "Give me more time." "Why do you care so much about that shitty town, anyway? There are other ways to make a career." "Let me worry about that," she says. "A few more days, okay? Then I'll give you a big case and everyone will be happy." The line goes silent for a moment. "Okay, a few more days. After that it's over." When their conversation ends, she lays flat on her stomach and thinks about the implications of that phone call. She'd already come this far. Could she live with herself if she took things further? She'd done risque things before, but she never let anyone touch her body before. That's the difference. As she thinks about it, the answer to her question is yes, she could live with herself if she went further. It would be worth it. The promotion. Her gangster step-father. She uses the landline phone in her hotel room and calls Lucas, expressing her interest in something small to start. She says she'll be in town only a few more days and wants to make big bucks before leaving. The man agrees, of course. There's no one else in this town with her body. Afterward she slips on a bra and panties, gets dressed, then goes to have lunch. Later at night, she goes to one of the sleazier bars in the town and gives the bartender a password. She's wearing a small, form-fitting skirt with stockings and dolled up makeup. It's the sexiest she's ever looked, but also the sluttiest. The attention she gets from tourists and locals makes her uncomfortable but she reminds herself that this really isn't her. This is a version of herself, an alter ego. She's led to a smoke filled backroom where a few men openly admire her body. She's eye candy to them. Perhaps more. With just a glance, she sees that this hidden area is used for bookies and illegal activities. She wonders if she'll see her step-father here, and if they cross paths, she wouldn't be recognized. She looks far too different now compared to a decade ago. She paces the room as she's told to wait for `business to arrive.' A few minutes later, the general bar area is louder with more patrons, and more men have come into the backroom looking for pleasure. Lucas arrives and hands her $400 in cash. She slides the money into her stockings. "That's for you. Seems you're more popular than I expected." "What can I say? I was born to be a star." "Love your confidence. Now all you have to do is lay face down on that table. If you like this, tomorrow you can earn more." "You know, I think I can go a bit further tonight." "Why the change of heart?" "The money. I'd like to meet some of your bigger clients. Town secret, right?" He laughs. "A tale as old as time." Things move fast when some guys are told to leave, while other men surround her. So far everyone is respectful about this. She recognizes some of the men. People of the community, people who run small businesses, and two guys who look like mobsters. There are five of them total. Monaghan lays face down on the table that's moved to the center of the room. The men surround her and start slow. Feeling their strong hands on her body is awkward like she expected, but what she hadn't anticipated was her own arousal. Two pairs of hands kneed her shoulders and arms. The rest of the hands are on her legs and waist. They love touching her, exploring her muscles and fitness. It's nothing like spa treatment, these men are stronger and their hands are everywhere. The sexual tension and sleaziness are palpable. As she becomes more relaxed, she feels the hands pulling at her clothes, slow, to gauge her resistance. Nudity wasn't part of their verbal agreement but it had been heavily implied. Monaghan lays there frozen as she thinks about what to do. She'd already come this far, sacrificed so much, plus her pussy is on fire, so she lets this happen. Her top is removed and someone comments about how her upper-back muscles ripple when she moves. Hands rub her lean body and muscles. The rest of her outfit is stripped away and they take her money, too. Everything is placed on a nearby table. She's nude and she tells them she won't turn around. They only get her naked backside. The worst part isn't her nudity, but the fact that she doesn't know what these men are involved in. Corruption, trafficking, bribery, drugs, anything. These men could be the worst of the worst. She's letting their hands roam her bare backside, even touching the sides of her small breasts and butt. She asks herself the same question, if she could live with having this done to her. The answer is still yes. Everything changes when she feels the unmistakable sensation of a cock laying across her back. Someone pulled it out and pressed it against her skin, semi-hard, long. She doesn't fight back. Don't resist. She lets the man rub his penis against her back and feels it getting harder until it becomes a full blown erection. Her pussy throbs as well. She listens to the sound of zippers going down. More cocks being freed. These men want to be sucked and they expect it from her. While she clenches her eyes shut, she feels a cock tapping her face. This wasn't agreed upon. Yet she opens her mouth and takes it in. The man pumps at her face while she lays on her stomach. She closes her lips around it. All she thinks about is salvaging this case while mindlessly sucking to satisfy the stranger. No one can ever know she's doing this. Her reputation would be destroyed. She'd be fired, never to work in law enforcement again. The operation can still proceed, she thinks while sucking and feeling the hands and cocks rubbing her body. All she has to do is keep quiet about this moment and keep investigating everything else. "Another $500 if you get on your knees, right now, and give everyone a turn." The offer is firm and assertive. Her eyes are wide open, and when she doesn't verbally accept, the men take her silence as consent. They lift her off the table like a lightweight doll, exposing her small breasts and slender figure, and bring her to her knees. They must have already planned this without telling her their intentions. The men surround her. Their dicks hard and pointed in her direction. Monaghan is living her fantasy which she never expected to happen. Especially not with these kinds of people. This is unlike the romantic or even dirty fantasies she has. These men are dangerous, that's the difference. And this place is a front for money laundering which she hopes to have busted in a matter of months. The men get greedy, going deeper into her mouth, taking turns, and in some cases going at the same time. She lets them. Allows it to happen. And she's on fire in between her legs. While sucking them off, she wonders if these men being criminals is what makes her so hot. That it's the darkness of the matter that she's attracted to. She's on her knees with two men in her mouth and she's never felt hotter. Their eyes are looking down on her, judging her character, appraising her like a valuable slut, happy to claim her. She looks at them with defiance as she's sucking. She refuses to let them `win,' to degrade her, but that's what's making her soaked between the legs. The ultimate paradox for the mentally strong woman. A man slaps her ass which makes a loud noise in the room. Her bottom stings, then the man puts his hand between her legs, sticking his fingers inside, making her feel vulnerable. "Who are you really?" The guy in her mouth pushes deeper. "Do you work for a different crew?" "You a cop?" The last question makes her shiver, her eyes widen. She controls her emotion and spits both cocks out of her mouth. Her breathing is labored, from both fear and arousal. These men could kill her without hesitation if she makes the wrong move. "Do I look like a fucking cop?" she asks. "There's something off about you, we'll have to find out." Lucas grins while snapping his fingers, signaling the men to put Monaghan on the floor, ass out, mouth forward. She's frozen as someone gets behind and claims her drenched pussy. This was never part of the plan. She never expected this to go this far, but here it is. Her pussy is so wet that the stranger slides in with ease. No lubrication needed. All she can do is accept what's happening to her. She's being ravished in all ways. They take turns with her throat, the man behind her is rough, and she's never felt so small in her life. The way they misuse her body is the ultimate turn on, strangely enough, the ultimate debauchery. No one should ever know about this, but she knows she'll be replaying this moment in her mind for the rest of her life. While her body rocks back and forth from the heavy thrusting, she thinks about if her mother had gone through these same motions. If men like this enjoy using and degrading beautiful women. Perhaps it's the `family gene' as a psychologist had once told her. Perhaps she had inherited this primal desire to be dominated. She wonders if her step-father was a cuck who watched her mother being gangbanged. In her prone position, she notices a 9 mm pistol strapped under the table, something in case there's a robbery. While she's sucking and fucking, darker thoughts come to mind. She can accept what they're doing to her. This is her dark fantasy. But if they take things further, if they hold her down and gang rape her, she will not hesitate to kill them afterward. These men better be careful. But it's not headed in that direction. They make her cum. Pussy squirts on the floor. Violence slips away from her mind as she orgasms. The men in her mouth cum down her throat, holding her head so that she's forced to swallow. The man behind cums deep inside her pussy. He even holds himself there so that his cum is buried deep and harder to remove. It only adds to her humiliation. When they finish, they laugh and proclaim that there's no way she could be with the police or a rival group. Her pussy was too wet for having ulterior motives. No, they assume she's a whore, but only if the money is right. An out of town woman looking for action to escape a boring life. Much like many of the tourists who visit here. The men talk amongst themselves as they wipe their cocks clean, discussing what an amazing piece of ass they just shared, as if she weren't still there on the floor, a cum soaked mess. They return her money by throwing it at her, scattering the bills on the floor so she can pick it up. It's only after most of the men leave that Monaghan feels a different fire inside of her. She's still naked in the backroom with the taste of cum fresh in her mouth and the sensation inside her cunt. Lucas is babbling about what a great job she did for a first timer. He's cleaning up the place, while the sound of a lively bar is still in the background. He has no idea what's coming his way. While the man is counting money, Monaghan casually walks over and reaches under the table for the gun, then she points it at him. Her nipples have never been harder, her pulse races again. "Turn around," she says. Lucas turns while holding wads of cash in his hand. The smile on his face disappears the moment he sees the naked woman pointing a gun in his direction. "What the fuck?" "Police, asshole. Don't make any sudden moves." He pauses, thinks. "Police? No, it can't be. We just fucked you." Monaghan walks toward the man, backing him up, and she presses the gun beneath his chin. Their eyes lock. She means this. "If you tell anyone about this, you're going to have problems. But if you cooperate with me, then we can work out a deal. Understood?" The man shivers. "You can't do this." "I'm police. I can do whatever I want." Threatening the man gives her a strange sense of arousal. She's taking her power back. These men fucked her body and came inside of her, now she's fucking them in a much different way. Her finger squeezes lightly on the trigger, making Lucas sweat. A smile forms on her face. When she gets back to the hotel room she undresses and goes to the bathroom to shower and throw up. Swallowing for a man is something she's tolerated all her life, but for multiple men, it's hard to stomach. She takes a long, hot shower and then sits on her bed naked. She puts her laptop on the bed and emails the only woman in the world she can trust. It's her fake email account, her name can never be attached to things like this. Point by point, she gives an overview of what happened, excluding any identifying names. She concludes the email with: Is it wrong that I enjoyed what happened to me? I know I should hate it, but it's not that simple. You know about my fantasies, my secret indulgence when I touch myself. I don't know, maybe I'm losing my mind because of the stress. Let me know what you think? Monaghan sends the email and then lays back and touches her labia. It's not exactly masturbation, but she's still sensitive in certain places and her hormones are lingering. Her laptop beeps a notification when she gets an email. She opens it: Thank you for the message, it's great hearing from you. What you did and how you're feeling is more common than you'd think. Over the years, I've dealt with several women in your line of work who've experienced the same thing. They were pressured to engage in sex acts to help solve major cases... but ended up enjoying it more than expected. What you described, I promise you, makes sense to me. It feels...wrong... And maybe because it feels wrong it feels... good? In my opinion it's the taboo that raises the intensity. It's creating extra hype around something that's already breathtaking i.e. gangbang situations and group oral. One, it was your first time doing anything like that. Two, the "naughty" factor of this being a previous fantasy makes it deeper. Think about people who cheat on their partners. You're doing the same thing with this new person that you'd be doing with your partner. So why not just do it with your partner? It's the thrill of doing something you're not supposed to, something you know might get you in trouble. In my view, that's why you're so aroused. So if you're looking for my advice on how to proceed... I'm sorry I can't offer that to you... I can't make these decisions on your behalf. BUT. I can say that when we meet again, I'll be there to comfort you, to guide your emotions, to help you heal. And I can guess what you're doing, or planning to do, and I want to say that it's fine to masturbate... assuming you hadn't already. These are your fantasies, your experiences, your body, and I'll keep that a secret. Always have. love, V Reading those words makes Monaghan's heart pound. The more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. She's a woman doing a dangerous job and sometimes there are side effects. She brings her hand down below, rubbing herself, making herself cum all over the bed. xxxxxxxx It's good seeing Detective Monaghan again after missing her for a month. My current task: a department-mandated psychiatric evaluation following her involvement in an undercover operation. It's standard procedure to protect mental health. A big cocked police officer is pounding her in my office right now -- I arranged this, to be clear. His identity isn't important, but he's reliable whenever I need a female detective taken care of. When she emailed me about all the salacious things she'd done on assignment, I simply couldn't believe it. Now I'm seeing firsthand what she's become. Her sexual appetite is insatiable. Watching her being handled is far beyond my masturbation fantasies, every muscle on her body is tensed, she's gritting her teeth and breathes heavily. When the police officer pulls out of her pussy, he aims his cock at Monaghan's asshole and I watch with a sense of anticipation. She could tell this guy to fuck right off, but she doesn't. She remains in the prone position while the cop spits in her asshole and pushes himself inside while she holds still. Her toes curl and her face contorts. I can see the lines on her face as she grimaces from the big cock in her ass. A few minutes later, the cop unloads in her asshole and she lays on the carpet with her orgasm and shame. He pumped until every drop of his cum was released. Afterward I tell the man to get dressed and leave, that his work here is done, and he puts on his police uniform and leaves. When we're alone I bend down and stroke Detective Monaghan's hair. She lays there silent and my hand is comforting her. Her shame will always be powerful because she likes presenting herself as a confident, independent woman, but her sexuality might be even stronger. A potent combination. I tell her, "I'm glad I could open your eyes to a different perspective and I hope that's helped you think more clearly about your experience. There are a lot of things that feel good, so good you might say, that it should be a crime. We can't live our lives indulging in pleasurable acts at the expense of our morals, but you are the exception. You did everything for a great cause." Do I feel bad for turning her into a gangbang goddess? Not really. The intel she provided sparked a major criminal investigation into that small town and she's a rising star in the law enforcement community. The sky's the limit for her, and when it comes to choosing future undercover operations, I hope she'll take cases where her best assets will be put to good use. Besides, women like Detective Monaghan are destined to live their fantasies no matter what. It's better that it happens under my supervision, my guidance, than her doing it alone. When she's rested enough she stands and gets dressed. Her clothes are scattered across my office and she picks them up, one by one, making herself presentable for the department once again. She promises to tell me more about the undercover operation in our next appointment. The multiple gangbangs, the cock sucking, the degradation. She's also considering going back to that small town to gather more information, if State Police needs her to. The End https://www.patreon.com/HeyAllStories https://twitter.com/HeyAllStories