Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2016 20:33:13 -0500 From: eric jones Subject: Dominion, Chapter 15 *** PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION TO THE NIFTY ARCHIVE, LARGE OR SMALL OR BOTH! Your donations make this resource possible for all of us to enjoy! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html *** * This is a work of fiction. My experiences and likes influence all my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden... Any similarity with actual people or places is entirely coincidental. * This story involves interracial sex between adult men. There is lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant. If any of this offends you, please leave now. * If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for any reason, please leave now. * Your feedback is welcome and appreciated... -------------------------------------------------------------- The sounds of jail cells closing is something you never forgot, and something you can't mistake for anything else. Simms, though, had heard it before. He really thought he might never have to hear it again. But here he sat. Things were starting to catch up with him. He rubbed the bandage over his eye. The police hadn't been very gentle with him, but that wasn't all that surprising. He had been down this road before. It was to be expected. Sore ribs and a cut over his eye wasn't that big of a deal. But, Simms needed time to think. Even a master schemer could only juggle so many balls at one time. One ball had fallen already and he instinctively knew that he would need to focus and concentrate to make sure another slip didn't trigger a crash. He had to keep his cool. Even a loss at this point didn't mean he'd lose the war. He would lawyer up, they would lawyer up. And the subject matter worked to his benefit. The stories he could tell could be far more harmful to his victims and their families than it ever could to him. Simms was no fool. If you're going to take a risk, make it a calculated risk. Simms knew folks would always give in rather than have stories get out in court or in a newspaper or even in neighborhood gossip. Drugs, race, kink, bondage and wild sex. Emails, photos, voicemails and videos. Simms didn't just use his aggressive personality to get his way. He tried to tilt the battlefield in his favor, and kept landmines and other traps in reserve as a backup. And Simms had a lot of dirt to play with... Weapons of mass destruction. If he was really in danger he could destroy the lives and reputations of many people in this town. Lots of folks - powerful and influential people - knew he was holding their bag. He wasn't sure if he would need to call in any big favors yet, but he did feel pretty comfortable about his long-term security. An officer came and escorted Simms to an interview room. He knew the drill. Say nothing. Ask for his lawyer. Again, Simms was no fool. But he was in for a surprise... He wasn't being interviewed by any old police officer, or even any old detective. One of the two guys sitting across the table was the chief of police himself. Simms kept his cool, but he was starting to get a little worried - just a little. Perhaps he was going to need to call in one of those favors. If only he had fucked more police officers or their families. But Simms aimed a little higher up the food chain than blue collar cops. Besides, even the corrupt ones didn't have a lot of money... Simms just sat there looking at them. Poker face. He wasn't going to give anything away. "Well, it looks like you've got a problem, Mr. Murphy," said the chief. Simms just sat there. He may have a problem, but he wasn't going to talk to the police about it. "You can make this easier on yourself now and just tell us how this happened," said the chief. "If you'll make a statement now - cooperate - and we can make sure you get the best deal possible," offered the other officer. "There's no reason for something like this to ruin your life, son," said the chief, in his most compassionate voice. Simms wasn't buying it. He kept his face clear and his mouth shut. "So, you don't want to talk to us? Well, I have a few questions for you anyway..." said the chief. "For one, how did you think you'd get away with this? Huh?" "We know the whole story," offered the other officer. "Yep," said the chief. "We already know what happened. Why don't you tell us how all this happened. Go ahead, just confess what you did, tell us the truth, and this will be as painless for you as possible." Simms wasn't budging. He wondered what they did know, but he wasn't going to let these officers know... "We have your email accounts. All of them," said the other officer, with a smile on his face. Simms didn't care. The emails were evidence, sure, but they didn't really change the fact that others had a lot more to lose than him. A prosecution was going to put a lot of people at risk. A lot of exposure. "And your computer," said the chief. "All your computers," said the other officer. "And your hard drives and CDs. Anything electronic or your house are all in our custody now. You're not going to be able to use any of that stuff - that... TRASH," he said, with a judging, irritated look on his face. Simms hadn't counted on them taking all his computers and drives. That was a setback. He kept the poker face though. Simms wasn't a fool, and had top level security and encryption on all his shit. The big-money but low-energy Hidden Valley police were going to have a really hard time getting access to any of his dirt. Plus he had backups there was no way they knew about. It was a loss, but it wasn't a big hit. He couldn't deny the police were being more aggressive than he expected, though. "So, tell us what happened..." "Come on, Mr. Murphy, come clean." These cops will try anything. Do they really expect him to spill his guts and say shit to them? It was almost amusing. He considered grinning at them, but just kept staring instead. "Alright, let's just start at the beginning. Baby steps. How did you meet this girl?" These police were crazy. Girl? He still wasn't going to say shit. But not just because it was the smart thing to do. He couldn't tell them anything about a girl. For one thing, he had no clue which girl they were talking about... "Lawyer," Simms said. "What do you need a lawyer for, Mr. Murphy?" the other officer asked. "Lawyer," Simms repeated. The two officers looked at each other, shrugged and got up and walked out. So which girl, Simms wondered, as he waited to be escorted back to his cell... He hadn't really learned shit...