Emily fidgeted with the top of her dress as she pushed through the crowd. She was supposed to meet her sister for dinner but was caught in a large protest. She was visiting her sister from out of town, so she didn’t know a protest was scheduled.
Emily was in the city for a university visit the next day. She arrived the night before and was staying with her older sister. Her sister had to work today, so Emily busied herself sightseeing.
Finding herself in a protest had her frazzled. She was more of a sign-a-petition or write-a-letter-to-her-member-of-parliament type of girl than a take-to-the-streets type of girl.
She was pushing through a pack of university students when she tripped. She fell into a boy with a picket sign. The boy stumbled, and his sign contacted two police officers’ riot helmets.
That was all the pretext the police needed. A captain ordered the group of students to be rounded up. They encircled the university students and Emily. At 18 years old, she was about the same age as the students, so the police naturally assumed she was with them.
“Officer, there’s been a mistake. I’m not a protester. I’m just trying to meet my sister for dinner,” she pleaded desperately. The only thing she hated more than confrontation was getting in trouble with an authority figure. She had once broken into tears when a bus driver directed a frustrated sigh at her for asking about the exact change. Getting arrested was way out of her league.
The officer didn’t acknowledge her pleas as the other protesters yelled at him. He zip-tied her hands behind her back and pushed her towards another officer who led her away.
She repeated her plea to the second officer. He replied, “We will take your statement at the detainment center. This way to the prisoner transport.”
The words “detainment center” and “prisoner transport” shook her to the core. She had never even had detention at high school. Detainment centers and prisoner transports weren’t for people like her. Her most serious brush with authority was a stern talking-to by her drama teacher for kissing with tongue during rehearsal for “Guys and Dolls.”
She was in tears as she sat on the prisoner transport. The students filled the other seats. A hippie girl sat next to Emily.
“Hey, it’s ok. You’re going to be fine,” the girl consoled her.
“I wasn’t even part of the protest. I was just walking by,” sobbed Emily.
“They’re not going to do anything to you. They’ll take your name and fingerprints. As long as you don’t have a record, they’ll process you and release you in a few hours. I’ve been through it a bunch of times before.”
Emily sobbed even harder. She knew the girl was trying to comfort her, but that all sounded horrible: fingerprinting, processing, and being in a jail cell for hours. Plus, she was being lumped in with this girl who evidently got arrested all the time.
She was also supposed to visit a university tomorrow. She fretted that they would never consider an applicant with an arrest record.
“Hey, not to pile on, but your dress is riding a little low,” the girl whispered to her discreetly.
Emily looked down and saw that part of her areola peeking out of the top of her ruched strapless boho maxi dress. Technically, it was her sister’s dress, but the airline lost her luggage, so she borrowed clothes from her sister. She and her sister were close to the same size but not close enough to keep the top of her dress from slipping without regular adjustment. With her hands zip-tied behind her back, there wasn’t anything she could do.
“Let me see if I can…” the girl next to her said as she tried to stand up and use her bound hands to grab the top of her dress, but the police officer in front of the van yelled at her to sit down before she could.
“Maybe I can…” She bent over and bit the top of her dress between Emily’s breasts and tried to pull it up with her teeth. She made a centimeter of progress before the officer yelled something about no hanky-panky. The progress was enough to conceal her areola for now, but just barely.
“Thank you so much,” Emily said with genuine gratitude. Maybe she misjudged the career criminal next to her.
“No problem. Solidarity among sisters,” she said with a warm smile and affectionate shoulder bump.
The girl’s kind act lifted Emily’s spirit slightly and broke her out of her vicious cycle of anxious thoughts, but she was still terrified about what awaited her at the detainment center. Her tears had stopped, though she started fretting about how she could contact her sister. She was supposed to meet her for dinner in about an hour and a half.
They have to give me one phone call like in the movies, right? But those are American movies. Did Corner Gas ever have an episode where they are arrested? she thought to herself.
She cursed herself for not paying attention in her Civics & Citizenship class, but how could she be expected to pay attention when they sat her behind three hot hockey players? She had spent the entire semester imagining the hockey boys taking turns, passing her around, fucking her with their fit bodies. Her grades in high school were inversely correlated with the number and fuckability of the boys in her line of sight.
That isn’t to suggest she was promiscuous. She had only had sex twice. Once, with a boyfriend she met in Drama Club who realized he was gay the week after they had sex. The other was with a basketball player at a party, who only lasted 84 seconds. Between her clique in high school (drama nerds) and her taste in boys (tall, fit athletes), she didn’t make many matches despite being very hot.
She was a 5’3” brunette with porcelain skin. The highlight of her cute figure was her pert ass which made the boys drool the few times she wore yoga pants. Her breasts were perky handfuls that sat high on her chest, even without a bra as she was dressed on this day. Her killer feature was her dimples that could melt hearts and harden cocks in moments. The main issues working against her were her modest fashion sense and her shy personality.
When the prisoner transport arrived, Emily saw that the “detainment center” was one of the city’s large police stations. The officers ordered them out and separated the eight men from the four women, including Emily. The officers frisked the men and sent them through to a holding cell. The women had to wait for a female police officer to frisk them.
While they waited in the lobby of the police station, Emily fixated on her dress and its slow descent down her chest. She regretted picking a strapless dress, but the pattern was just too cute to turn down as she raided her sister’s closet. She tried to slow and shallow her breathing as that seemed to be the main culprit of the dress’s movement.
She sensed a hint of areola emerging and cringed. She noticed one of the officers elbow his colleague to get his attention and nod towards her. The second officer’s eyes bulged as he noticed her breasts trying to escape. Emily was humiliated. In general, she was starved for male attention, but not like this.
Her seatmate from the transport noticed and stepped in front of her. The officer in charge yelled at her to get back in line. She begrudgingly complied. Emily turned away from the gawking officers, but she realized that meant facing the busy lobby of the police station that was full of people coming and going. She reluctantly turned back towards the officers. Better to flash two cops than the whole world.
Unfortunately, all her turning sent the dress further down. She looked down and could see the hem of the dress just barely concealing her nipples. One false move, and she’d be full-on flashing them. The two officers’ eyes were glued to Emily’s chest. They watched with rapt attention. Emily stood anxiously with her hands bound behind her back, inadvertently sticking out her chest. The suspense was killing all three of them.
Emily held her breath but could feel the fabric starting to give. A tear ran down her cheek as she stood helplessly with her hands behind her back as she accepted her impending humiliation. But luck was on Emily’s side as the female police officer appeared. Emily and her seatmate both called to her. She came over, and Emily pitifully asked for her help and nodded to her dress. The officer instantly understood the situation and pulled up Emily’s dress by the sides, covering her entire chest. She empathetically rubbed Emily’s arm, seeing the distress the young girl was in.
The two gawking officers were heartbroken. One had just gotten his phone out but was too late to get a covert picture. It isn’t often they get to see such a perky pair of tits.
The female officer gave them each a quick frisking. It was more to comply with policy than to search the girls, as they didn’t look like real threats to society. The two gawkers led them to a large holding cell. Once in the cell, their hands were cut free.
The female officer gave them each a manila envelope and ordered them to empty their pockets, and she took their purses and bags. Emily contemplated sending her sister a quick text but chickened out and slipped her phone into the envelope. The officer gave them each a form and a pen and told them to fill it out. It asked for basic biographical information like legal name, birthdate, address, and Social Insurance Number.
The officer collected the completed forms and told them they would be processed one at a time. She looked at the top form and called the name of Emily’s seatmate. Emily was sad to see her go. She had grown to like her seatmate even if she lived on the other side of the law.
A young officer walked past the cell, and Emily mustered up the courage to ask him if they got phone calls.
“Excuse me, sir … uh … officer, sir?” Her voice was barely above a whisper and cracking.
“Pardon. What’s that?” he barked at her, making her flinch.
“I’m so sorry. Do we get to make a phone call?” she said in the strongest voice she could muster, which was barely audible over the noise of the bustling station.
“You’ll get a phone call after you’re processed,” he stated firmly. Then he cocked his head and looked at her more intensely.
“Do I know you?”
“Uh… no officer, I don’t think so. I’m not from here.”
“Outside agitator, eh?” he joked.
“No, sir. I was just walking by and … and … and,” she stammered as she got worked up, just barely managing to hold back tears.
“It’s ok, kid. What’s your name?”
“Emily. Emily Mumford,” she squeaked out, trying to hold herself together.
“That’s it. Is your sister Heather Mumford?”
“She is.”
“Small world. We went out a couple of times around Halloween. You look just like her. Well, cuter, but a lot like her. Plus, I’m sure I saw your picture on her Instagram or somewhere. I’m Will Hendrix, by the way, but you can call me Officer Hendrix.”
Emily instantly recognized the officer. Her sister had posted pictures with him on Halloween. He had dressed as a Spartan warrior in the style of the movie 300. He wasn’t as beefy as the guys in the movie, but he definitely had the body to pull it off. In fact, Emily had availed herself of those pictures on a particularly lonely night.
She noticed how well he filled out his uniform. The short sleeves of his uniform hugged his biceps. She wondered if his shirt was tailored, as it snuggly fit his broad chest and tapered to his narrow waist. His pants left little to the imagination. His thick thighs and toned ass from years of hockey were hard to miss. His Halloween beard was replaced by rugged stubble. His thick brown hair was combed back, and his blue eyes sparkled.
But any attraction she had to his picture was long gone as he openly looked her up and down. He was giving off creep vibes that made her skin crawl. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shrunk from him as he undressed her with his eyes. She stared at the floor in shame even though she had done nothing wrong.
He slowly licked his lips as he took stock of her. He knew her sister was 23 years old, and he could tell she was younger. He liked them young. Her sister was a bit of a party girl. Emily here did not look like a party girl. She looked like a mix between a young Anne Hathaway and Hailee Steinfeld. She was an innocent girl. An inexperienced girl who needed the guidance of an older man, maybe a 28-year-old police officer.
Will and Heather had met at a bar and went on two dates and fucked a couple of times. She was a lot of fun but ghosted him. Will was still a bit salty about that.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Wait here,” he said as if she had any choice. He walked towards the guard station. He returned a minute later with her intake form. He beckoned her to the cell door.
“Open Cell 3,” he yelled to the guard station.
The door buzzed, and he slid it open. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out before closing the cell door with a loud clang.
“This way,” he commanded as he led her by her arm away from the holding cells.
They made their way down a long hall and a flight of stairs. They entered an empty basement hallway. He pulled her down the hall. He looked around suspiciously to see if anyone was about. He opened an office door and pushed her inside and locked the door behind them.
The office appeared to be unused. It contained a desk with nothing on it besides an old landline. There was a large office chair behind the desk and two simple wooden chairs in front of it. There was no decoration on the wall. There was a rusty filing cabinet with half a roll of paper towels on top in one corner and a pipe running from floor to ceiling in another corner.
Everything about this felt wrong to Emily. They shouldn’t be in this office or even on this floor. She shouldn’t be alone with Officer Hendrix and definitely shouldn’t be in a locked room. She shouldn’t even be getting detained.
Her stomach was in knots. Officer Hendrix sat in the office chair as he continued to eye her body. His leering eyes made her feel dirty. Emily tugged her dress higher on her chest.
“Can I call my sister, please … Officer?”
“All in good time,” he said, licking his lips yet again. “Have a seat.”
Emily sat on the wooden chair. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes so she stared down at her feet.
“So it says here you assaulted two police officers. That’s a pretty serious charge.”
“What?! I didn’t assault anyone.”
“I believe you. I’m here to help you if…” He trailed off.
“If what?” Emily asked hesitantly. But she knew the answer. She was young and sexually inexperienced, but she wasn’t naive. There are only so many reasons a guy would secret a cute, young girl to a hidden office.
The prospect of what Officer Hendrix suggested caused confusing turmoil inside her. There was relief at the prospect of getting out of trouble, but it was replaced with anxiety about what she would have to do in exchange. She found his vibe off-putting and creepy, but he was objectively very hot and just her type (tall, lean, muscular, handsome like a young Jake Gyllenhaal). She was naturally a very horny person who would slip into fantasizing about almost any hot guy who walked by, but her anxiety effectively shut off that part of her brain.
Will could barely contain his excitement. This was like a porn movie come to life. This sexy girl was quivering like a leaf. She was clearly desperate to get out of trouble. He’d have no trouble getting her to agree to a blowjob, maybe even more. He was already imagining her lips around his cock.
Just then, sounds came from the hall. They heard the footsteps of two people and the sound of a cart with a squeaky wheel. Will bolted up with a look of panic on his face. He put his finger to his lips to tell Emily to be quiet. He crept to the door and listened closely.
The sounds receded. Will opened the door and stuck his head out. He turned back to Emily and told her to wait here while he went to check things out. He took one step out the door and paused as he reconsidered. He re-entered the office and said, “Sorry but I need you to step over here.”
Will walked towards the pipe in the corner that ran floor to ceiling. Emily walked over to him. He pulled out his handcuffs and locked her left wrist. He fished the cuffs behind the pipe and cuffed her right wrist behind her back.
“Can’t have you escaping custody,” he said with a smirk. He left the office to inspect the sound.
Emily didn’t think the handcuffs were necessary. She wasn’t going to try to escape. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her anxiety. She felt her dress slip, and her eyes went wide. She looked down. She was fully covered at the moment, but another centimeter and her areolas would start peeking out.
She held her breath. Surely, Officer Hendrix would be back in just a few seconds and release her. When a minute had passed, and he hadn’t returned, Emily realized the folly of her plan as she was forced to exhale fully and take a deep breath. The dress…
