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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: jrdeputy.txt (MMF, exh, nc, bd)
Authors name: Deputy Duffy (stonedog99_1999@yahoo.com)
Story title : Jr. Deputy, The
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Jr. Deputy (MMF, exh, nc, bd)
by Deputy Duffy (stonedog99_1999@yahoo.com)
***
A lawman shows his apprentice just how much fun it can
be, when you're playing on the right side of the law.
***
Vermont in the springtime. The weather warms. The
flower's bloom. The bird's sing. Of course this story has
nothing to do with any of that.
I was sitting, at my stool, at the Crazy Horse, blowing
off a little steam, by working on my tenth Budweiser. I
was just coming from a meeting with the sheriff, or as I
also call him, Dad. I wasn't real happy with him, (as is
often the case,) because he informed me that for the
spring I would be working with a Jr. Deputy. It's a
program designed to take a youth, who has visited us in
the past, some, many times, and work with them. Sort of
like a big brother. We try to take them under our wings
and show them that being on the right side of the law is
the way to go, or at least that's the theory.
The Jr. Deputies handle light duties, traffic details,
answering the phones, and sometimes we even take them
with us on routine follow up calls. Sometimes we even
have them watch the prisoners in the holding cells and
that kind of stuff.
My Problem? I really just don't like playing babysitter,
as you are still responsible for their actions.
A couple of days later, I met with my Jr. Deputy. His
name was Kevin McGrath. He was a 19 year old, tall and
lanky guy. He had an artistic talent. Unfortunately he
used public properties as his backdrop.
Kevin was a nice enough guy to hang around with, (even
though I knew from the second I met him that he had no
desire, whatsoever, to make a career out of law
enforcement.) We even hung around after work and played a
lot of hoops. (Ok, he kicked my ass at hoops, but I
carried the gun!)
I could tell he was more than a little bored with the
trivial duties that I was assigning him. So for a change
of pace, a couple of days a week, I would let him tag
along as I patrolled High street. It was the most active
street in our coverage, as it led to the highways. His
only duty was to watch, but it was better than answering
phones. (I assumed.)
One sunny day, (about half way into Kevin's three month
program,) we rolled up to an empty, banged up station
wagon. I wasn't sure if it was banged up before it hit
the telephone pole, or not, but it certainly was now.
After calling for a Hook, I quickly found the driver
stumbling down the road, about a mile away. She was
obviously intoxicated and luckily for her, apparently
uninjured. After a trip to the hospital, (she just had
some bumps and bruises) I took her back to the station
and she was booked for DUI.
She was so drunk that I'm sure she will never remember
the strip search. Although I'm sure Kevin will never
forget it, as it was the first one I let him observe, and
you never forget your first. She was a little on the
heavy side, (alcohol will do that to yah) so I told Kevin
we would have to do a little better next time, with a
wink. Still the look on his face was priceless when I
told the young woman to take off her bra and panties.
Funny, when she did, she asked me for her pajamas, while
also calling me mom.
After she was buck naked, (I skipped the cavity search --
didn't want her peeing on me) we got her into a large T-
shirt that says, "Property of Vermont State police," on
the front. It was a little harder than normal, because in
her drunken state, she favored to just stay naked at that
point. We finally walked her to the holding cell. Just in
time, as it turned out, because she began puking in the
lone toilet, as soon as we got her in there. Her two
roommates, REALLY happy to see her.
When I got back upstairs, I remember that she called me
mom, and I figured I'd better call hers, even though she
was 20-years-old. I got the number from her wallet, and
was all too soon taking to a raucous woman. I calmly told
her where her daughter was and hung up. As it had been my
experience that it was futile to converse with a stunned
parent on the phone.
About a half hour later, I heard a commotion at the front
desk. It didn't take me long to figure out that "MOM" was
here. She stormed past the deputy working the front desk
and headed right for me. As I assumed he told her that I
was the arresting officer.
"How dare you arrest my daughter?" She sneered. "She's
never drank in her life!"
(By just her opening statement, I knew I was in for a
headache with this one.)
"My daughter had an accident and you throw her in a cage,
like an animal. She should be at the hospital!" she
hissed, her squeaky voice, rattling my bones.
"I'm a lawyer. She has rights, and I demand to see her
this instant!" she barked, as she slammed her fist into
my desk, while also tossing me her business card.
(I just sat back in my chair, as she huffed and puffed
away.)
"Well don't just sit there; take me to her this instant!"
she shrieked.
"Are you done?" I finally offered. The older lady folded
her arms over her chest and offered her steely gaze to
me.
"Your daughter has been involved in a
accident...yes...but we had her checked out at the
hospital, before we booked her. The doctor said she was
fine, just a little drunk," I said, before handing her a
copy of the doctor's report.
"Now, are you here as her mother, or are you here as her
attorney?" I could see her pondering my question, as she
had to know I asked it for a reason.
"I am both," she finally mumbled.
"Well, if you're her attorney, I would tell you to come
back in the morning, for her arraignment. If you're here
as her mom, I will let you see her tonight," I said, not
satisfied with her answer. She quickly folded her arms
again and stared me down.
"I would like to see my daughter," she said, in the
calmest voice she had displayed so far.
I handed her a couple of forms to fill out. She looked
them over and then sighed them, before handing them back
to me.
"Ok, follow me," I said, as I led her into the processing
room. "Wait here."
I went back out front and glanced over at Kevin, who was
watching the surveillance monitors of the holding cells,
intently. It seemed to be his favorite duty, as he may
have had an voyeuristic disposition.
"Hey Kev, you want to stay here, or do you want to join
me in the processing room?"
He was torn at first, but when I smiled at him, he just
returned that "you have to be kidding me" look. I didn't
even wait for his answer, I just walked into the
processing room and when I went to close the door, he
just slid in behind me.
"Ok, Stephanie."
"That's Mrs. Baxter to you," she interrupted me.
"Ah, Stephanie, this is Deputy McGrath," I said pointing
to Kevin while purposely leaving off the Jr. part. (And
she may have been Mrs. Baxter, to Mr. Baxter, but to me
she was only Stephanie, a whinny, arrogant, snotty,
feminist lawyer bitch, or maybe that was just a quick
impression of her.)
"Where is my daughter?" She snapped.
"She's down stairs, in the holding cell, but before we
can take you to her we must do a quick search for
contraband," I announced, before all hell broke loose, as
the lawyer went on a ten-minute spiel about female rights
and searches and all that fun stuff.
I grabbed Kevin by the arm and led him out of the
processing room, and left Stephanie in the locked room,
to let her cool off. (But, in the small room with its
bright lights, and no windows, or ventilation, well it's
anything but cool.)
"I can't believe this," Kevin said, as soon as we got out
of the room. "She was the lawyer that trashed my family
when I lived in Mass."
"Yeah right," I chuckled.
"I'm dead serious," he snapped. (I could tell by his face
that he was, or at least I thought he was, it just seemed
implausible.) As I sat down at my desk, Kevin went on to
tell me the story of when he was 11 or 12, living in
Massachusetts. She was the prosecutor that put both his
father and brother behind bars, for insurance fraud. It
was the reason Kevin moved up to Vermont to live with his
grandparents, in the first place. Moving away from the
rest of family and friends. Now, as I think you already
noticed, I'm not a real fan of lawyers myself, but I
don't think I sported the deep down distain that Kevin
showed for them, especially for this one.
He was becoming angrier by the second. I had to calm him
down several times, and tell him to go wash his face,
while also reminding him that we were on the right side
of the law. (Of course that line can get awful fuzzy at
times.)
While he was in the bathroom, I remember a warm feeling
invading my body. Like an evil entity invading. Or maybe
I just saw a chance to show off in front of the boy.
Whatever it was I knew we were all in for a long night.
We finally went back into the processing room. Stephanie
was sitting on the large steel table, droplets of sweat
on her forehead. Yet she was still dressed in her
business suit jacket, if only for the time being.
"Ok Stephanie, are we ready for the search?"
(She just looked at me in disgust and hopped off the
table.)
"Stand on the yellow line," I ordered.
When she stood on the line, she just looked at me and
tapped her foot on the line. I don't know how she meant
it, but I took it as a dare. (And if there is one thing
that you don't want to do, it's dare a Duffy.)
"Ok now, Stephanie take off the jacket and hand it to the
deputy." I said, sternly.
She unsnapped the jacket and tossed it to Kevin, whom I
told to search it and then hang it up on the clothes hook
drilled into the wall. Stephanie was standing with her
hands on her hips. She was dressed in a white silk blouse
and a black skirt that went down just past her knees. I
noticed that she had black shoes on, (but sadly, no
heels) so I asked her to remove them next. Stephanie
kicked them at Kevin and returned to her daring pose.
"Now Stephanie, unbutton the blouse."
"Now way! That's as much as I'm taking off, you little
pervert," she shrieked.
For the next ten minutes we were subjected to another
rant from this lawyer. Finally I showed her the forms,
which she signed, that said a full-search was required to
visit a person in our custody. (Of course "full-search"
was up to the searcher's discretion, and usually just
meant a quick "pat down") It was now my turn to cross my
arms and stand in front of her, waiting.
I will give her credit though, as it was the longest I
ever waited. Had to be a good twenty-minutes, before she
finally reached up and began to unbutton her blouse.
Glancing at Kevin, I had to elbow him, as he was sporting
an evil grin on his face. (Even though I told him about
the stone face part.) Stephanie finally had the blouse
unbuttoned, but again she argued when I told her to un-
tuck it from her skirt and hold it open. I went back to
my arms crossed stance, as we played the waiting game
again. Finally she pulled the blouse out of her skirt and
quickly pulled it open and just as quickly closed it.
"Please grab a-hold of the blouse and spread your arms
and leave them there," I growled.
"Right!" She snapped, as she shot me a look that could
kill. (Didn't she know that she had already lit my fire
and now she was just adding more gasoline?)
"Anytime, but in reality, I have all night," I said now
tapping MY foot. "But I think the taxpayers would
appreciate your cooperation, as I'm already on overtime
with yah."
Finally after a few more minutes, in a huff, she gabbed
her blouse and spread it open with her hands. Her bra
covered breasts now exposed to our view. I wasn't really
surprised to find her bra to be one of those old fashion
white ones.
I had her turn around in a circle in this position,
before I barked the next command. "Now hand the blouse to
the deputy," which brought more protests, before Kevin
was finally examining it.
"Skirt next," I said, as I prepared for her predictable
protests.
"I will have your badge for this," was her last remark,
as she unzipped the skirt and handed it over to a
smirking Kevin. (Basketball? I should have been playing
poker with Kev, 'cause his poker face sucked.)
Stephanie was now left wearing her bra, a girdle and
pantyhose. After I had her turn around again, I motioned
with my hand for her to take off the girdle, as honestly,
I just didn't think I could say it with a straight face.
After she called me a "jerk," "pig," "vermin," and a "Cub
Scout," (I get that one a lot) she started to remove the
girdle and handed it over. Then she surprised me by
rolling down her pantyhose and handing them to Kevin as
well. Stephanie was now standing in her white bra and a
large pair of conservative white panties, that looked
like they could have sailed a small boat.
"Now turn around and put your hands on the wall." I
managed, before a howl of protests drowned me out.
"Just wait a second, if I have to do this now, just to
see my daughter." She shrieked, as if the proverbial
light bulb went off. "Then what did my daughter have to
do?"
"Your daughter?" I said trying to choose my words for
effect. "She had to strip, strip to the skin for
us...Just like you."
"You fucking pigs!" she screamed out. "She's just a
baby."
(Geez.... Just how old do you have to be, to not be
considered a baby anymore?)
The room was becoming almost unbearably hot, as the three
of us stood there waiting for the other to blink. She
wasn't just gunna have my badge now, she was also going
to sue me for sexual harassment and misuse of force. Well
if there is one thing I've learnt so far its, if you're
going to get sued, make it worth it.
Finally, I had to help her into position. Now behind
Stephanie, I pulled on the back of her bra straps and ran
a finger under them, making my way over her shoulders. I
ran a finger under the cups of her bra and just lightly
over her nipple. Stephanie quickly spun around. Venom on
her breath, as she raised her hand.
"Think about it," I managed, before I felt the palm of
her hand slap across my left cheek. The sounds of
smacking flesh echoing of the walls, my eyes instantly
glassy. I saw her hand raising for an other swing, but I
caught it this time and spun her back around. Forcing her
into the wall, while quickly finding my cuffs. I slapped
them on her wrists and raised her hands over her head and
hooked them into a hook that was bolted into the wall,
for just this purpose.
While a stunned Kevin watched her, I went to the bathroom
to wash my face and clear my eyes, while also trying to
regain my composer. I spent some time typing up the paper
work, before entering the processing room again. I read
Stephanie her rights, over her cursing, as I explained
how she was going to get to spend the night with her
daughter, after all.
"Ok, now we can continue the search," I said, as I felt
around the back of her straps again.
"Don't you dare fucking touch me!" She screamed, as she
spun her head around and spat at me. Fighting my natural
instinct to smack her one, (as that just wouldn't be
cool.) I went over to the large table and unlocked the
lone draw. I found the mask we use for "Spitters." Its
like a doctor's mask, but it's made of leather.
"I'm glad you're here Kevin, so you can witness this," I
said, as I strapped on the mask, despite Stephanie's
defiant actions. (I could also use the witness in court,
although I knew that there wasn't a Judge in a state that
would rule against my father, or more importantly for
me...his son.)
I went to the table again and found the medical scissors.
I made sure she could see them, before I ran them under
her bra strap, cutting a shoulder strap, and then the
next. Reaching around her body, I ran the knife up her
stomach. I cut the bra through the middle, right between
her breasts. The large bra fell to the floor, revealing
her two large slightly saggy breasts to our view.
Kevin, (making a simple rookie mistake,) bent down to
pick up the bra, and received a knee to the head for his
effort. It was now Kevin's turn to use the bathroom to
clear his head. While he was doing that I went to the
supply closet and found the seldom used leather straps. I
waited for Kevin to return, as I figured he would want to
assist me in the next part.
When Kevin joined me, we strapped Stephanie's kicking
feet together and then un-hooked her from the wall hook
and laid her face down on the dirty concrete floor. After
removing the handcuffs, we strapped her fighting hands
behind her back. We brought her legs up, and attached her
hands and legs together, effectively hog-tying her.
I gabbed her by the arms, Kevin by the legs, and we
carried her squirming body down the stairs to the holding
cell in the cold basement. Opening the cell door, we
carried her in and unceremoniously dumped her on the
concrete floor. She shrieked out, under the mask. I must
have been her red-hot body -- hitting the cold floor.
I glanced at her daughter, passed out on the far cot and
pulled her T-shirt down. (As somehow it had made its way
up over her breasts.)
"Ok girls, play nice," I said with a laugh, glancing at
the two other women sitting on the other cot. Kevin and I
closed the cell door behind us and breathed a sigh of
relief. Both of us were simply drenched in sweat. We made
our way up stairs and washed up. I hung up my uniform top
in my locker, and locked my gun belt up in my desk, as my
shift had officially ended an hour ago. I asked Kevin if
he wanted to leave, but for the first time he said he
wanted to hang around.
I went into the break room and poured a couple of beers
into tall plastic cups. (Just don't tell my dad.) We made
our way to the holding cell monitors and I relieved the
deputy who was watching them.
"Thanks man, that was cool," Kevin whispered. "Man, I
don't even think she recognized me, but I'll never forget
her, or today."
"Yeah, that was a little different," I said proudly.
"I know, but do yah think that bitch is really gonna
sue?" Kevin asked.
"Maybe, but you never know," I said, as I shrugged my
shoulders.
I really didn't know what was going to happen as we
watched the monitors, which I usually feel, is as
exciting, as watching grass grow. But if I knew Foxy and
Georgia at all, they were in a playful mood, at least if
her daughter's T-shirt was any indication.
Foxy and Georgia were a couple of tough biker chick
types, who were in the holding cell for beating up some
guy at the Crazy Horse. (I take it he didn't know that
they played for the other team.)
Kevin and I sat and watched, and had a couple more beers.
Basically we were just watching Stephanie squirm and roll
around on the cold floor. She did seem to calm down after
she saw her daughter sleeping comfortably on her cote. I
went to take a leak and when I came back Kevin had moved
closer to the screen, his jaw wide open. Quickly taking a
seat next to him, we watched the two biker chicks start
to hover around the bound and gagged lawyer.
"Kev, you think I should have told them she was a
lawyer?" I asked, but Kevin was too busy watching to
answer. The two women started slowly poking and prodding
Stephanie's defenseless body, before they started to
really give her a thorough going over. I was ready to
intervene if things got out of hand, although the women,
in my skewed opinion, never did. Instead they just used
Stephanie as their little plaything, exploring her body
to the fullest. Then, when I guess they had their fill of
Stephanie, they turned their attention to each other.
While the two women played with each other, I asked Kevin
which of the women he liked the best. He quickly said,
"the big titted one," which I assumed was Foxy, as she
did have a couple of huge torpedo style tits on her, and
a large ass to go along with 'em. The other biker chick,
Georgia was the better looking of the two, but her body
had seen its better days, and the tattoos didn't do a
thing for her.
After a couple of hours of watching, the action had died
out, but I could tell Kevin was still all fired up.
Fueled by alcohol, I made my way down to the holding
cell, and had a brief talk with the two biker broads.
Then I turned my attention to a tranquil Stephanie. I
pulled up her panties and untied her hands and feet. I
took off her mask, and gave her a T-shirt. She barely
moved, as the fight had seemingly been sucked out of her,
quite literally in fact.
I made my way upstairs, the biker broads in tow, and led
them into the shower area. They were surprising excited
when I turned on the water, as I guess a hot shower hit
the spot after being locked up in the holding cell for
hours. Kevin suddenly joined me in the shower room, and
almost fell over, when he saw the naked women showering.
"Well, after a long day I figured it was time to relax,"
was the best explanation I could come up with, as I
started to shed my uniform.
"Just stay on your side and I will stay on mine," I said,
as I was a little uncomfortable, and I'm sure he was too.
I made my way into the showers first and pulled Georgia
down to one end and left Kevin his choice, Foxy.
It still never ceases to amaze me what some women will do
to get off the hook. As I had this so called tough chick,
(after washing me down,) down on her knees, with the snap
of my fingers, sucking me off like a porn star. Even
though I knew she hated me and anyone in my profession. I
couldn't help but notice that Kevin was receiving the
same treatment from Foxy.
George, also didn't seem to have a problem with licking
my balls and even my asshole, if it meant her freedom. I
finished with some rough face fucking in which I blew my
load. And Georgia had no problem handling that either.
I left Kevin alone with the women, although I didn't go
far, just in case. Judging them by their actions that
night, maybe I was wrong about the women playing
exclusively on the other team, after all. I watched as
they ravished poor Kevin. Basically they fucked him
silly, until he was begging "no mas."
Since that night Kevin has been reconsidering his career
choices. He even admitted he wouldn't mind being a deputy
after all.
As long as he could work for me and my dad.
The End.
Thanks for reading my story.
Stay tuned for more stories!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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