A single cell

Mark was somewhat relieved when he was led into an empty cell. He sat down on the hard surface that passed for a bed and held his head in his hands, allowing himself to finally cry for the first time throughout this whole ordeal. And cry he did, letting it all out as he sniffled and sobbed, his receeding drunkeness not aiding his mental constitution to deal with the situation in the slightest. As he sat thinking about just how screwed he was, he heard the cell door creak open, and he looked up through bloodshot eyes to see the female officer who took him in enter the room, then close the door behind her.

She looked down at him and pursed her lips in a sad smile before twirling a pair of handcuffs around her finger. "Sorry to bring bad news but the big boss is coming down to talk to you, so I'm going to have to restrain you." she said, nodding towards a small metal ring bolted into the wall. "Stand over there and face the wall with your hands up please." she ordered authoritatively. "Promise it won't be for long."

Mark nodded as he looked up at her. Despite her utilitarian uniform, pinned back hair and unflattering cap he could tell she was attractive, if a little stocky in the body. Pretty, indeed, but with a piercing gaze that brooked no argument. He sniffed as he rose to his feet and took his place against the wall, placing his hands on either side of the metal ring.

"Thank you Sir." she said matter of factly as she stepped in behind him and cuffed him into place. Mark stood there in silence for a few moments before he looked back behind him, only to see the officer simply standing there, grinning at him. "What is it?" he asked nervously. "Who's coming exactly?"

The female officer just chuckled softly. "Oh, nobody's coming... pervert. This is just you and me... all night long." Mark instinctively tugged on his bonds eliciting another chuckle from the officer, his efforts only succeeding in hurting his wrists. "No use trying buddy, you're stuck and you're mine now. Fucking granny ****... scum like you should have your fucking balls chopped off, you know that? Would solve the problem pretty neatly... but I can't get away with that. What I can do though, is almost just as good." her sentence was punctated by the sound of a latex glove snapping, another one soon following.

"Wha-what are you doing?" he asked nervously and was rewarded with a harsh slap to the side of his face. "Shut the fuck up!" the officer barked, her hands fumbling at his belt for a moment before she expertly undid his pants and slid them and his boxers down to his ankles in a single motion. "What the f-" he began but was silenced by a hard and painful smack on his ass. "Silence!" she barked once more. "Relax, and I will show you..." she said, her voice dripping with menace, "And I mean it when I say relax... it will make it a lot easier on you."

Mark sensed her step away, but soon he heard her returning, an unnerving scraping sound heralding her approach. She stepped into his periphery and the scraping stopped, Mark turning to see her smirking maliciously at him, a police baton in her hand which she raised for him, staring at him knowingly, then with her other hand she formed an O with her thumb and forefinger and proceeded to slide the baton suggestively through it while she licked her lips.

"No.. please no!" begged Mark shuffling on his feet and tugging on his cuffs again. "I didn't do anything I swear! That crazy old bitch tried to **** me... I'm innocent, please!"

"Crazy old bitch, eh?" she repeated, mockingly. "Sounds like someone hates women... is that right, do you hate women Mark?"

"No... no of course not! I have a wife... a mother." he blurted out lamely.

"Even serial killers have mothers Mark, that is not an excuse. No... what you are is a misogynistic, vile, dangerous predator. And I am about to give you what's coming to you..." she said as she stepped away.

Mark stood trembling in fear, waiting for her next verbal barb, or painful smack but nothing came until a soft, whispered voice tickled his ear. "So you want to know what's going to happen, Mark?" she asked, causing him to shudder. "I think you already know... at least some of it. I'm going to fuck you with this..." she tapped him on the shoulder with the baton for effect, "that much was obvious. But how, and why is the important part. See Mark, I am going to fuck you with this so hard, so well and for so long that you won't even want to use that pathetic excuse for a penis any more. You will be too **** for a big, fat cock inside you to care about tormenting poor old grannies any more..."

Mark lowered his head, his sobbing returning as he made one last effort to try to save his anal virginity - hell, his masculinity. "Please..." he sobbed, "Don't do this... I'm innocent."

The officer laughed, a dark, menacing sound. "That's it Mark, you're already playing the snivelling little bitch to perfection, and I haven't even started. But you're repeating yourself... don't bore me Mark... or this could get very uncomfortable for you." she stepped forward and traced the baton, lubricated to his surprise, slowly up Mark's leg before coming to a stop, ominously pressing at the base of his buttocks.