Chapter 9: Officer Grayson Gets Taken for a Break

The Blüdhaven Police Department maintains an excessive amount of streetwalkers. Her whores in blue strut proudly with vested authority and scant uniforms. Clacking in their standard-issue heavy heels, stretching their pattern booty shorts with their full swaying hips, and straining their intentionally too-tight uniform tops with the busts underneath them.

Yet, despite the voluminous presentation displayed by the precinct. The accountability placed on its girls is as lacking as their inhibitions, most blatantly seen in the patrol system.

If one were to look deep enough at the official reports, they would see the specifics in reported locations and routes are vague, open-ended, or outright fabricated. Maybe it was because the administration could not keep up with the Redhorn’s overbearing demands for police expansion. But it was no excuse for its tolerance of misreporting as long as the books looked straight.

It’s a deplorable situation and a primary contributor to the precinct’s culture of irresponsibility. But it’s also helpful for a particular superhero cop, allowing her to switch between identities at any time.

Officer Grason can disappear, presumed to be walking her beat with that hip-strut everyone loves, and Nightwing can fly into action. And Nightwing, after securing her plunder of Shumalith’s operation, can retreat. Allowing Officer Grayson to reemerge at the precinct patrol car lot.

This spot was handy for obscuring her arrival, effortlessly blending in with the slew of officers entering or exiting their vehicles. There was so much activity that even Grayson could fly under the radar with her distinct and prominent booty popping and cheek clap-clap-clapping.

She arrived just at the end of her shift. Her only task left was to fulfill her final reports. Though admittedly, the hero-cop would be faking her report like her crooked fellows. An irony she was very much aware of.

But she wasn’t like her peers! It was necessary to fake her career as an officer, exploiting the broken system to make her superhero work possible in this city. Nightwing was worth the compromise and hypocrisy!

Besides, her designated routes in Melville are so monotonous and repetitive that Officer Grayson can write up an account, being there or not, that is essentially accurate. Moreover, she can get it written up in under half an hour. That is fortunate because a more significant task will be tackling the intelligence Nightwing acquired from the money launderer.

Data analysis was not her best suit. She inherited Momma Bats gumption for groundwork, better at hands-on investigation than number-crunching; Babara and Tatiana got the technical genes. So this would take her much longer than she would care to admit.

Honestly, it would be easier to ask those two girls for help. Maybe she should call Tati if she’s not too busy. She hasn’t talked to the girl in a while.

Or perhaps Barbara could…

*CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP*

Grayson’s ASSCKEEKS inexplicably spread themselves wide and smashed into each other. At the same time, a tongue lathered her rosebud, lighting up her ASSHOLE, launching up her spine, and impacting her brain with ecstatic, thought-rewriting ****.

A certain PHATASSED fitness super freak was definitely not playing her booty like cymbals, reinforcing her butt-based mental compulsions.

...Never mind about calling for help. I’m a big girl. I need to figure things out on her own.

Especially Barbie. She CANT call Barbie. She has more important things to do, such as drowning between massive buttcheeks. It’ll be challenging, but she could spend an all-nighter to figure this out.

Yet, Grayson’s plans for the evening were suddenly and drastically changing. A hand got a full heaping SQUEEEEEEZE of her ASS, fingers sinking into its abundance. Her legs stopped listening to her brain in favor of the woman grasping her generous glutes.

The officer now found herself in the company of Kendra Bateman, Caroline Feldsheim, and Maxine Dannameyer, the BPD’s own three stooges.

“Ricarda, sweetie!! So glad to see you!!” cried the amorous Feldsheim, vigorous kneading Grayson’s spherical left rump. A short, olive-skinned femme with brown-black hair. Her blatant lust was evident from the growing femme boner eagerly rubbing on Grayson’s bare thigh. “Oh baby, I knew your ASS looked plumper. I told you bitches she was still a growing girl!!”

“Yeah, yeah, we all see it, Carol,” Bateman replied curtly but with an underlying agreement. Black-haired like Ricarda, taller and broader than Caroline. The milk coca-skinned femme was the only one that wasn’t grasping at the rookie—instead circling their captured prey.

“Yes, girl! That behind of yours is even more captivating!” touted Dannymeyer, taking hold of Ricarda’s unmolested right cheek. Yet more in perverted teasing than Caroline’s bare naked lewdness. The tallest of the three, surpassing Grayson’s above average height, with glasses and sandy blonde hair.

“Oh-oh, hello girls. Glad to see all of you too.” Grayson writhed under two feminine hands ravishing her plush PAWG police booty. The timid persona wasn’t so much an act with these femme perverts putting her ASS under arrest, crippling her with a partial Slut Brain. “B-but I still got a lot of work to do, a lot of paperwork to finish. S-So if you could let me go, a-and stop squeezing my butt….”

All three objected to this and squeezed her ASS harder. “Nonsense girl,” declared Dannymeyer, rolling her plump cheek in her hand in circles. “Paperwork smaperwork,” decried Feldsheim, juggling hers in her palm, appreciating how it overflowed out of her hands. “Seriously! You’re still doing that!” Batemen contemptuously dismissed. Now standing in front of Grayson and possessively caressing her face.

“But it’s a part of our jobs. We have tooommmmph!”

*suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck*

The dutiful cop was shushed by Bateman sticking a finger in her plump kissers. The distressed officer couldn’t help but lather and suck.

*Slurp* *Slurp*

*Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp!*

Kendra soon took her finger out of Grayson’s thick lips with a loud and lewd *POP*.

“Don’t worry about that shit. We’re going out to the usual place, and you’re joining.”

“But- but I can’t!” Ricarda protested, barely lingering to her sense of responsibility. “I need to get the after report-”

*** SMACK!!! SMACK!!! ***

“-ddoooOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH~!!!”

Bateman silenced her with twin SMACKS to her booty shorts clad booty. With one as large as Graysons, it required no less to launch those prominent haunches into wild swinging and quaking.

The heightened sensitivity made her feel every micrometer of the **** jiggling, putting her entirely under that mysterious, subversive psychosexual phenomenon.

“Girl, stop worrying and have some fun with us!”

**SLAP!**

**SLAP!**

"OOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhh!!!" Officer Grayson moaned from two more slaps, collapsing into their arms. Rendered utterly helpless in the molesting trio’s grasp, now **** to join their revelry, paperwork unfulfilled.

…..

“HEY! Put that away! You’re a cop. You know better than to swing that around in a public place.” So ordered the proprietress of the bar.

Hogan Alley was the favorite spot for the BPD’s rank and file. Much to the chagrin of its namesake, Harriet Hogan. The strapping femme imposed her presence on the unruly harlot swinging around the unholstered weapon. “I not going to tolerate a negligent discharge in my bar. Redhorn might not care about you girls carelessly shooting your loads, but I do.”

The woman whipped this base police bitch down alongside her buddies. The latest act of unprofessionalism that she brought to heel just under the hour. “Cool down and don’t make any more trouble. I don’t want to have to come back and teach you how to handle your firearm.”

She was the only one who could retain a business enjoyed by the rough department. Hogan was a figure like Chief Redhorn, carrying the **** of personality to make these girls stand at attention and cry, “yes, Mommy!”.

Yet, Hogan was firm and strict but stalwart, expecting as much from sworn officers. Redhorn was imposing and brutish, demanding submission above conduct from her girls. One of the many differences that strained their relationship.

With that settled, she moved back to the bar front and greeted her least favorite trio.

“Bateman! Feldsheim! Dannameyer! I know you three aren’t coming to my table while on shift.” Hogan turned to their fourth addition. “Even worse, you **** Grayson into your irresponsibility.”

She looked at Grayson with softer eyes. “Don’t worry. If Rohrbach asked, I’ll make sure she knows they **** you to come with them.”

“Come on, Hogan! The girl’s been working too hard! We just wanted to help her wind down.” Batemen audaciously argued. “Is it wrong of us to spoil our favorite new girl?”

“Not with your kind of spoiling. This girl’s a good one. And I don’t want you messing her up.”

“Oh, my Goddess! It’s always the same thing with you, Hogan!” Bateman thumped her head on the bar stand. “I thought retirement was supposed to mellow you out. Not make you even more of a tightwad.”

“Of all fates!” Dannameyer overdramatized. “The best swig of beer in town for us girls in blue, and it has to be owned by Hardass Hogan.”

“Yeah, I came to get drunk, not have you bothering us again with ‘responsibility,’ ‘accountability,’ and ‘conduct.’” Feldsheim sneered.

“Well, I don’t want a constant reminder of how far my former institution continues to fall. Yet, here all of you are.” Hogan grumbled but at least consented to service. So the three ordered their usuals. She turned her eye and raised a brow to the fourth.

“None for me, water, I guess.” Grayson at least let herself consume some kind of liquid. The other girls bemoaned as Hogan let herself a slight smirk, serving her proudest glass of water.

“Awwwww, Come on,” Feldsheim groaned. “You’re a sweet pussy but don’t be such a pussy. Why don’t you get a real drink in your mouth?”

“I-I really shouldn’t,” Grayson demurely but insistently stated what she felt should be obvious. “I’m still on duty. I shouldn’t be drinking on shift.”

Bateman just stared at her blankly. “Girl, half the girls in here are on the job.”

She turned over to a table at the corner, “HEY LISA! AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE DRIVIN DOWN THE SPINE WITH YOUR PARTNER?”

“YEAH?” That was all the response Lisa and her partner said on that. Hogan sighed, her ever-present migraine only growing stronger.

Bateman turned back. “See rookie? You need to get with how we do things here and learn to take it easy.” Turning defiantly at Hogan, who glowered right back. “Or you’ll get burned out banging your head on the wall for nothing.”

“Yeah!” Feldsheim wrapped an arm around her favorite rookie, resting her chin on her shoulder, tickling Grayson’s ear with her breath. “You gotta let yourself relax.”

“Just Relax, Ri Ri. All you need to worry about is bouncing that DUMPTRUCK ASS all day, every day!!”

“...W-What?”

“I said you don’t have to worry about anything, Grayson!! Loosen up!!”

Interrupting all of them was a breaking news bulletin blared on The Alley’s TV. “Hallo, beautiful people of Blüdhaven, zis is Bianka R. Glutentag. Host of your Blüdhaven Bulletin,” Greeted the city’s top reporter.

“Zity officials stated zee last of the debriz from za Green Line Incident haz finally cleared.” The channel showed an overview of Bludhaven Drive and Park. The last of the littering vehicles being taken away on trucks.

Superimposed over it was Glutentag. She showed her side profile to display the deliciously thick jut of her ass and tits, deliberately like a particular Gotham reporter did when interviewing Supergirl. She was definitely, totally not hired for her superficial similarity to the Canadian sex bomb.

“Yet zere haz been no official comment on zupposed masked perpetrators found amongst the debriz of vehicles.”

The report took over the bar’s conversation, washing away the usual lackadaisy. Even the Gruesome Trio was interested.

“Hey, were any of you bitches down there that night?” inquired Dannymeyer.

“No.” Answered Feldsheim. “I was already home hours ago. Fire and Ice’s performance for President Catwoman was on that night, and nothing was going to make me miss that.”

“No, but I heard about it from Lisa,” Bateman revealed, “Cars throughout the whole stretch of the Park n’ Ride.”

“I was there all night, and we weren’t even halfway done.” The said officer added. “Real annoying, it interrupted my cut-er my sting on the crew in Baily.”

A glint entered Dannymeyer’s eye. “I heard someone say they saw a costume flying on the roofs? Was a Super there?” She asked Lisa.

“Nah, just the chicks wearing all those masks.”

Turning back to her gal pals, Dannymeyer mulled over. “Mask? I heard about a gang that does that. False Facers? Aren’t they from Gotham, Kendra?”

“Yeah, They run for Black Mask.” Batemen eyes went down anxiously. “Shit, I hope we’re not going to deal with that skull-wearing bitch. I got family in Gotham, and I want nothing to do with what I heard. Good thing Soames didn’t call us up to deal with that.”

“Saved us the trouble,” Feldsheim nodded. “She makes every girl under her work their boners.”

“Yeah, she’s a real taskmaster, alright,” Hogan muttered darkly, all too familiar with her former junior, and was displeased to hear the woman getting to such a position of authority.

“What about you, Grayson?” All three eyes, including Hogan, went to the rookie officer.

“Oh no, no, no! Definitely not. Definitely!” Grayson quickly and vehemently denied, “A rookie like me? there’s no way they would bring me into something that serious!”

All of the girls were relieved. Hogan behind them let out her breath and put down the shot glass she nearly crushed.

Feldsheim leaped at her in joy, darting to her hips and pressing herself against her soft body. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. A girl like you should keep your sweet ASS safe and away from trouble like that.” Oh, she wished she could.

Bateman leaned back, returning to her usual devil-may-care. “Well, at least those Gotham freaks have been dealt with. We don’t need more of that shit in Blüd…

“Breaking Newz!” Glutentag graced the TV once again. “A truck was spotted racing down ze Island Road!” The feed changed to the view of a racing cab-over semi. It was making its way through traffic and ramming smaller vehicles out of its way. The bar full of officers was shocked. But the rookie amongst them was more surprised at what the truck was carrying.

“Ze vehicle seems to be carrying a mobile office trailer on its flatbed. We at ze Bulletin cannot speculate who could be doing zis or ze reason for their cargo. But ze Blüdhaven Police Department has been unable to stop ze vehicle.”

“This too?” Hogan watched in awe at the manic car barreling the road, reaching the bridge over the Narrows. For once, on the same page with her former compatriots.

“Oh my sweet ASS Goddess, that’s nuts.” Dannymeyer. “A runaway truck after a runaway train? What’s happening in this city.”

“Like I’m saying. This shit’ starting to look like Gotham” Bateman. “Least we’re in here, miles away from…Hey, Where’s Grayson?”

They turned to see that their favorite rookie was missing. Most surprised was Feldsheim, who was now groping the open air. They wouldn’t figure out where Grayson was or where she possibly went, but their junior was long gone.

It turns out she wouldn’t be properly finishing her shift. But that was one last compromise she was willing to make. Officer Grayson had to turn in earlier than expected because Nightwing’s wasn’t close to being over; her ASS would be working the night as well.