1000 like bonus chapter Pt 1: Problem Solving with Seargent Tennings

With every thrust the suspects ass rippled. “You want to talk yet slut?” The poor smuggler screamed a response desperately into her gag. “That’s what I thought. Too bad for you I’m not done yet.” Tennings pushed the shock rod into the criminals rectum but didn’t pull the trigger. Fear and arousal made the fit blonde buck and pull against the restraints that held her face down and ass up. Her arms were magnetically locked above her head to the far side of the crate top, stretching her slender figure across the container. Her back curved gracefully up to a smooth ass that was at the perfect height to receive Tennings' justice. Variable length leg cuffs spread her legs wide via a magnetically contained field that spread between the mechanisms like a bar. Because she had spent too much time begging for mercy, and not enough time telling Tenning’s who her buyer was, he had stuffed a rag in her mouth while she thought over what she was going to say. Her body shuddered with every movement, pushing the soft flesh of her breast flat against the unyielding metal surface.

It had been a clean bust, with the smugglers caught red handed offloading the weapons. Tennings lead the breach, busting down the door with the battering ram while his team pounced on the suspects. Within seconds his elite tactical team had each smuggler on the warehouse floor and restrained. Tennings identified the leader for “enhanced” interrogation. During his preliminary search of the prisoner, he located a hold out blaster. Not taking any chances, he ordered both a strip search, and a cavity search, of all suspects. Two of his team had just completed the strip search of a skinny brunette, and were balls deep inside her mouth and her ass. Her compatriot looked on in horror as two more officers yanked down his pants.

“Now, it occurs to me that I haven’t read any of you little fucks your rights yet, have I?” The only reply is a chorus of moans and gags, along with one chuckle from Stephens, the new guy on the team. “Well, here they are; y’all, got none. Because someone blew up the courthouse, police headquarters, the Capitol building and a bunch of other stuff that everyone loves to hate but keeps this whole place running. This planet is two steps from anarchy and you know why? Because people keep doing shit like selling military grade guns to rioters and terrorists. Any guesses as to who that might be?”

He pulls his summer sausage of a cock out of his victims steamy couch. She moans pitifully, looking back over her shoulder with terrified lust. When Tennings presses his shock stick against her rose bud, she shakes her head frantically. “No ideas?” He slowly pushes on the crowd control device, his muscles barely contained by his uniform. The ball shaped emitter creeps past past her sphincter, which slowly swallows another 6 inches of shock stick. “I’ll just tell you then. It was you little cum heaps.” He pulls the trigger.

Tennings lets the bitch scream for a little bit before removing the shock stick and replacing it with his own tool. “Since we no longer have the basic infrastructure needed to make government work, we’ve adopted a more streamlined judicial system. I catch troublemakers, troublemakers are guilty. Cuts out all the steps that were done by those essential institutions that got smashed to pieces. So if you wanted things like a fair trial, right to a lawyer and humane treatment, you shouldn’t have sold a bunch of Gavleth T9 Energy Beamers to whoever was willing to pay for them!” He rams ten inches of man meat deep into her ass as the prisoner squeals for mercy.

“Sergeant, got a call from HQ,.” Tennings protest is cut off before it can begin. “I told them we were in the middle of a questioning. The exact words from the Cap were 'Tell Tennings that he has an entire city to patrol and he can’t spend all night diddling with smugglers.' You want to talk to him?”

Tennings had quite a few things he wanted to say to his CO, but he had problems enough as it was. “Negative. Load these scum bags up. We got work to do.”

Tennings gripped the hand rail as the APC shuddered amidst anti-aircraft fire. “How many counts are we up to?” he asked.

“That’s around ten counts of providing military weapons to a terrorist organization,” replied Horace, the perpetually cheery pilot. Zaps and wails filled the compartment as his soldiers vented their frustrations on the gun runners through the slits in the kennels. One of the many separatist militias (Tennings didn't care which) was shooting at him with anti-aircraft guns. While the odds that these particular guns were provided by these particular smugglers is relatively low, it was high enough that Tennings was happy to add it to their list of felonies.

Blondie (her new legal name, as it was what Tennings entered on her arrest report) had been removed from her pen and was enjoying the full ire of the squad. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed and her ass was into the air by a baton so that it could be properly belted. Bonnnie's booted foot kept her mewling face pressed against the bulkhead while Stephens swatted each cheek in quick sucession. In spite of her protest, everyone could smell her sex, not least of all Manne, a man who was almost as big as Tennings but was far darker skinned. He had just finished wiping her off of his dick when they started taking fire.

Tennings simply shook his head in disgust. Outside the viewport, the floor of a building lit up in a flash of white as the APC returned fire. “Command,” radioed Tennings. “Got some more disgruntled civilians with heavy weapons. The Remar Corporate Tower on Long Street. We’re on it.” He didn’t wait for a response. No backup was coming. There were too many trouble makers and not enough cops. It was the same sad song Tennings had sung into a glass of beer every night for the past month. “Time to earn our pay boys and girls.”

With all the subtlety of a slab of pavement the APC closes with the window that was just shattered by it’s turret mounted grenade launcher. Originally built to deliver troops into combat zones and bring big guns with it, the armored behemoth was a bigger beast than Tennings was used to having. Most people hated martial law, and if Tennings was honest with himself, it was more trouble than he wanted. It was nice to have all these new toys though.

The APC could comfortably seat twenty, plus the pilot and their gear. Tennings had five men and women, which left plenty of room for the prisoner kennels. Built as small as possible to accommodate as many of them as possible, the back wall was covered with the grim cubes. Prisoners inside had but to curl up into a ball and await their arrival at the new HQ. Thin slits in the front door allowed air and shock rods to enter. The remainder of the interior was covered with various instruments of crowd control, suspect detainment and interrogation. The side door of the wedge shape war machine slides open and the team jumps the narrow gap with no regard for the twenty stories of air below them.

Tennings is first across but close on his heels is Bonnie. Two frizzy black buns unwilling to be contained poked out beneath her combat helmet. She covered the door while Tennings cuffed a humanoid wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a ski mask, effectively masking their gender. The crew would enjoy discovering which later, but for now, Tennings only cared about the fact that there was a rocket launcher still smoking next to the masked rebel.

“In here! They're in-Agchk!” Bonnie’s nunchuk hits the charging rebel square in the face as he tries to enter. Each member of the squad was in full riot gear, and had various tools of capture and detention hanging from them like Christmas tree ornaments. Since the riots, the combat armor had become like a second skin and the rules regarding permitted equipment for officers had been slackened. Many wondered where Bonnie had gotten her nunchucks. Not Tennings. He wanted to know where she learned how to use them. So would the next three assholes who tried to get into the room. At least they would have if the ebony beauty gave them the time to wonder before putting them on the floor. Tennings liked Bonnie, but keeping up with her was hard work. He was running out of cuffs, and would need to switch to zip ties soon.

The rest of the squad fans out past Bonnie, methodically searching the building. There are alternating zings of stun fire and shouts of “Clear!” as they conduct their sweep. Soon after cleaning up the mess Bonnie left, Tennings joins them, bagging another militant himself. In total, eight militants are restrained and stripped, stripped, and given a quick disciplinary before being loaded into the cruiser. This is a fairly simple process of Manne tossing the perp across the gap. It’s only six feet and Manne is a strong man, but with all the whining from the tossees, one would think that they had already been found guilty and were being executed. That was only half correct of course.

“Seargent, I have something here.”

“On my way Mako,” responded Tennings.

If Tennings was surprised to see a secretary kneeling on a desk that was probably more expensive than the APC, he didn’t show it. She wore a black pencil skirt and strategically unbuttoned crimson blouse. Shoulder length sable hair which contrasted with her pale skin was held back by two hands locked behind her head. Prowling around said desk was Mako, who ensured that the heeled lady stayed on her nylon covered knees.

The lithe cop used to have a ponytail, before the second Winters Street riots when some punk grabbed it. It did not end well for him, but Mako had kept it shaved ever since. The cropped hair combined with her wolf like smile made her absolutely terrifying as she patted her baton against her hand. “After the sweep, I was investigating these offices and found this one locked with the lights on. Naturally I kicked it in.” Tennings nodded in approval. “I found this little trollop trying to delete some files.”

“Sir, that’s not true. I was just working late when-AHHH!” Mako ripped open the blouse. She tried to cover up before Mako held a taser before her eyes. Hesitantly, the unfortunate overtimer replaced her hands behind her head, pulling her shirt wide open and exposing her chest. Lacy black lingerie supported graceful swells above a flat tummy. Her body begged for a slow, gentle caresses. Unfortunately, she was in for a rougher time.

“Don’t interrupt. Every time you say something I don’t like, you’re losing another piece of clothing.” Mako emphasized the point with a quick boob cup that made the kneeling victim grimace. “I used to work for this company when I was a kid. They were fucking terrible. Long hours, shitty pay, always on call, no gratitude.”

“Mako you’re describing our job.”

“Yeah but this job has better benefits.” The clerk yelps as Mako slaps an ass that is technically covered, but the slinky material clinging to it leaves nothing to imagination. “Anyways, I always thought they were sketchy so I decided to investigate further.” She taps the computer spike sticking out of the terminal. “This is desk of Marilyn Roth. She's got some fancy made up corporate title but she's a major player at Remar Corp. This bitch is her chief boot licker.” The secretary looked like she might object, but after a quick look down at her exposed front, thought better of it. “Based on the rumors I've heard about Roth, that may not be a figure of speech, know what I mean, eh?” When Tenning’s expression didn’t change, she decided it was best to power on. “Anyways, I think they’re up to something. I’ve plugged in a remote access port and the program is going through their backups. Should be able to recover whatever it was she was hiding.”

“Mako, did you this woman onto the desk, humiliate her, and hack a private computer systems because of a shitty summer job you had?”

“No. I’m doing all that because there were separatist terrorists in the building along with the suspect and I caught her trying to keep me from seeing what might be evidence.” Another spank and another cry. “I’m enjoying it because of a shitty summer job I had.” In spite of her shit eating grin, Tennings knew she wasn’t lying. Mako may have become a sadist since things went south, but she was his sadist.

Tennings redirected his attention. “Alright then. Tell me your name and explain what you were working late on while armed men and women took potshots at my cruiser?”

“My name is Lydia. Lydia Thompson. They just came in. What was I supposed to do? I locked myself in here and hoped they would go away!” She seems terrified. Being in the same room as Mako will do that to a person.

“You didn’t call the police?” Mako hooks a finger down the dress.

“We have a private security firm,” she says desperately. “I alerted them. Please,” she begs as Mako grabs the hem of her skirt in both hands. “I was just working on a project for Miss Roth. She wants it done by tomorrow. I’ll be… reprimanded, if it’s not finished.”

“What is this special project?” Tenning’s pressed.

She bites her lip. “Please officer, you must understand that it is a sensitive matter and-Aiyeee!” With a tear the tight skirt was shredded by Mako. The lacy thong and matching black garters, made the perfect frame for the masterpiece that was Lydia's ass. Mako wasted no time in pawing the exposed secretary. Smooth flesh bulged around Mako's feral grip as graceful flesh met hardened sadism.

“I don’t think you’ll like what Mako will do to you when you run out of clothes. Or maybe you will. I’m not sure how your tastes run. My guess is you should start saying things that make Mako happy.”

“Please don’t. It’s so much more fun when perps don’t cooperate,” Mako whispered into her ear and gave it a nibble.

“It’s a client! I’m supposed to make a portfolio showing off our staff talent and researching suitable markets for their business model. That's what I deleted when you came in! I’m so sorry.”

“Go on.” Mako looked very disappointed but continued to dredge her hands across the scantily clad lady.

“With the instability here on Telphis IV there are those who think that new markets can be opened up. Some interested parties reached out to us and we offered them our consulting services. ”

“Let me get this straight. You were planning on making a profit off of the fact that our society is crumbling? Before you answer, remember you don’t have many clothes left.”

The two women’s faces are polar opposites; Mako’s was pure delight. Lyida’s despair. “We were providing a legitimate-AHHH!” The expensive bra his quickly sliced to pieces by Mako’s knife. “I didn’t even finish!”

“Yeah but I had a feeling I was going to hate it.” Without waiting for a response, Mako slides her tongue from the base of the prone woman's breast up to her expecting nipple. Lydia squirmed, but didn’t dare move away or change her submissive posture.

“Let’s move on,” continued Tennings as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. To be fair, this was a pretty typical questioning these days. “Who was this client?”

“I can’t-wait!” Mako had already pulled the thong from the back so that the delicate fabric dug into Lydia’s swollen pussy lips. “It’s the Canis Group. I’m so sorry-Ahhh!” Mako savagely bit down on a breast while ripping the thong loose. Lydia’s screams continued as she was thrown prone on the table and violently cuffed by an enraged Mako.

Mako pushes her face down onto the table as she kicks her heeled feet futilely. With unnecessary but gratifying , Mako cuffs Lydia's hands behind her and then pulls them high. Lydia’s agony is doubled when Mako pulls out the taser from earlier and slams it into her ass. Ignoring the unfortunate raven haired beauty’s pleas for mercy, she reads her her rights. Her version of the speech is different than Tennings. In Mako’s version, the suspect has the right to be ass fucked, face fucked, pain fucked, and regularly fucked.

Tennings ignored all of this and pinched the bridge of his nose. The Canis Group. A group of various corporate, private and even government entities who were the dominant economic and political organization outside of the legal framework of the Federation. They did business under a variety of aliases of such as Grov'tlx, the Servitude Trading Guilds, and yes, Canis Group. But their most common name was the Sirius Syndicate. His night just got longer.