"Girls! Flash that jogger!"

It’s the next morning.

Arabella’s Rolls-Royce is parked in the street outside the Rose & Rose. The two of you walk towards it, chattering away excitedly about all the wonderful things you’ve gotten up to over the last three hundred years or so. Meg and Prudence, wearing black rubber raincoats over their stockings and corsets, feeling like perverts, walk ten paces behind you.

“Girls! Flash that jogger!”

An early-morning jogger comes trotting down the sidewalk. Obediently, Meg and Prudence throw open their raincoats to show him what’s underneath. He takes one look, trips over his own feet and tumbles into a rosebush.

“Good job, ladies,” says Arabella, smirking, as the fuming red-faced girls close their coats again. “Why don’t we take a day to see London, Sitri? I can show you all the sights. St. Paul’s, the Tower, the Houses of Parliament…”

“I’ve seen them already.”

“And we can turn the girls into flashers everywhere they go!”

“What a good idea, Arabella. Besides, I’ve never visited the Shard, or the London Eye. But what’s this?”

There’s a uniformed policewoman standing by Arabella’s Rolls, in a navy-blue round hat, jacket and skirt. She’s busy scribbling something onto a piece of paper, which she slaps down onto the car’s bonnet. You approach her, a broad smile on your face. “May I help you, officer?”

“Are you the owner of this vehicle, sir?”

“That’d be me,” says Arabella. “What seems to be the trouble, officer… Hunt, is it?”

“Parked illegally,” says WPC Harriet Hunt, a pert, officious, five-foot-one blonde. There’s a stern expression on her face as she looks up at the pair of you. “Twenty pound fine for that.”

“Twenty pounds? Officer, isn’t there something we can do?”

“You can pay your fine,” says Harriet, speaking slowly, as if to a pair of idiots. “Otherwise, you can go to jail. If you wanted a third option, ma’am, you shouldn’t have parked illegally. Now, I’d like your names for my records, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmm. Girls, flash the policewoman.”

“What do you… HEY!” Harriet’s eyes spring wide open as Meg and Prudence open their raincoats, giving her a good look at the becorseted nudity underneath. “THAT’S ILLEGAL! Get over here, you perverts! I’m taking you in this minute!”

“But, Harriet,” you point out, “there’s only one of you, and two perverts.”

“Ah, but I have the full **** of the law behind me!” Harriet grabs the radio from her belt and calls the situation in, ending with “...and send a special task **** to arrest these perverts!” She jams the radio back into its holster and takes a step back, sizing you up with contempt written all over her face.

“So, you think you’re funny, do you?” she says.

“Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I think we’re very funny.”

“We’ll soon see about that, sir. I’m an officer of the law, and I don’t think there’s anything funny at all about EEEEEK! EEK EEK EEK!”

A strong gust of wind is blasting Harriet’s navy-blue skirt up over her face to expose the tops of her black stockings and her decidedly non-regulation lace-trimmed pink knickers. She tries to push it down, but the wind is just too strong. Acting in unison, you and Arabella grab her while she struggles, spin her around and **** her down over the bonnet of the Rolls with her skirt still up. She kicks and squeals as you pin her, knicker-clad pert backside wiggling.

“How dare you, sir! Let me go at once! I’m a policewoman! You don’t know how much trouble you’re in! This is completely unacceptable! I represent the law!”

“What do you think, Sitri? Should we let her go?”

SMACK.

“OWW!”

“No.”

Harriet lodges several loud, shrill squeals of protest as you and Arabella take turns spanking her bottom, one of you holding her down and lecturing her on proper parking inspector etiquette while the other delivers short, sharp stinging smacks to the panicked policewoman’s wiggling derriere. You take your time, thoroughly reddening her bottom before confiscating her knickers. Her bare ass, exposed under her navy-blue skirt, looks so cute that you can’t resist the temptation to spanking her some more.

“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! I DEMAND TO SEE A SOLICITOR! OW OW OWW!”

Once the pair of you judge that Harriet has been properly spanked, Arabella takes over holding-down duties while you unzip your pants. She struggles deliciously under your strong hands as you part her thighs, take aim and plunge your cock deep into her juicy wetness. The mortified policewoman squeals in fury as her pussy involuntarily clenches around you, feeling every inch of your warm invasive strength.

She makes unprintable noises as you fuck her, bent over your Rolls with her skirt up and her panties off for the whole street to see. Arabella laughs and teases her the whole time.

Finally, after a long shameful ordeal for poor Harriet, you pump her full of your evil demonic cum. As she staggers to her feet, looking dazed, Arabella grabs her skirt and yanks it down around her ankles, leaving the blushing blondie naked below the waist.

She’s not quite finished yet. You stand back and watch as she deprives Harriet of her jacket and undoes her stiff white blouse a button at a time. Finally, the unlucky WPC is left to shiver on the concrete in broad daylight in central London in nothing but her police hat, belt, stockings and sensible black shoes.

She looks down at her condition, red-faced and trembling, then back up at your grinning faces.

“YOU’RE UNDER ARREST! YOU’RE ALL UNDER ARREST! AAAHH!”

She’s still trying to clap you in handcuffs five minutes later when a police car pulls up to the sidewalk and two strong men in uniforms step out. They size up the situation at a glance. “Special anti-pervert squad,” one of the men says, taking the handcuffs away from Harriet and clapping them round her wrists. “We’ll take it from here.”

“NO! NOT ME! I’M A POLICEWOMAN, YOU DAFT… LET ME GO!”

“Just found her like this, officers,” you shrug, inconspicuously zipping your pants back up. “Tragic case.”

“Bill, the car’s buggered,” complains the other strong policeman, kicking one of the tires. “Just clapped out on me. We’ll have to march her on foot back to the station.”

“Blast it, Other Bill. The station’s all the way across town! Mustn’t grumble, I suppose. Come along now, girl.”