Good Cop, Bad Cop

I walk the somewhat sparse halls towards Interrogation Room A, and review my notes one last time. This is technically my first interrogation, and thankfully, I've been given an easy one. The suspect is a party magician, one I arrested earlier trying to rob a bank - well, I’d hardly call it a robbery. When I arrived the bank manager was practically inviting her inside the vault. Clearly an inside job gone wrong, and obviously, he was also taken in as a potential co-conspirator. The magician’s the real suspect, though - her ID says her name is Abigail Beckett. The whole case is still a bit unclear, but that's why I'm here, to fill in the blanks.

Not a lot of the other female officers like doing interrogations, but I’ve always found the idea of them fascinating. Growing up on cop shows gives you some idea of what to expect, but I can’t deny that I’m feeling a bit nervous.

I reach the interrogation room and peer in through the tinted glass. Abigail is sitting right there. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties, and is certainly rocking the getup of a magician, with her black, glittery tuxedo and top hat. A white bow tie hangs just below her collar, and I can see she’s wearing white gloves above her handcuffs. Someone must have given them back to her because I distinctly remember ordering her to take them off when I arrested her.

Because of the low risk, it’ll just be me running this interrogation for the first little while. Busy day, I suppose. There's an emergency call button by the door if I need it, but I won’t. She’s cuffed and looks easy enough to overpower, if I absolutely need to.

As I approach the door, preparing to buzz myself in, I review my interrogation plan. Obviously, I’ve heard of Good Cop, Bad Cop before, but I never really bought into that method. There’s only one of me, and I don’t really see a point in going good cop at all. Why would you be nice to a supposed criminal? But bad cop I could definitely get into. Intimidating the crap out of the suspect sounds as effective as it is fun.

As I open the door, Abigail looks over to me, an eyebrow raising. “There you are, officer,” she smiles, motioning towards the handcuffs on her wrists. “Are these really still necessary?”

“Yes,” I answer coldly, in as tough of a voice I can muster. I throw down a case file onto the table and sit opposite to her. She looks at me expectantly as I thumb through the document.

Eventually, she speaks up. “Y’know, I’ve heard some officers give you water during these. Even coffee, if you’re lucky.”

I glare at her. “Not me. Now, you’re going to talk.”

She looks at me, an amused expression on her face. “I am, am I?”

“We’ve got seven different witness reports, DNA left at the scene, and full video evidence. We know you were there, we know what you did. The only things we don’t know are where the money is, and who else was working with you.”

This part was especially strange - apparently, after an exhaustive check, the bank had found that over one million dollars was missing from their vaults. This was despite my arresting Abigail on the scene, with no money to be found. So, logically, another person must have been involved in the heist to take the money. That much cash doesn’t just vanish by itself.

“A million dollars is well into Grand Larceny territory. That’s enough to put you away for a very, very long time. But you can lessen that sentence, if you confess everything now. Tell me where the money is."

“Ah.” Abigail shakes her head, leaning back into her chair. “Nah. I’m good.”

My eyes narrow. The attitude of this bitch. “Oh yeah? Well, we also picked up your little co-conspirator. The bank manager. Why don’t you tell us everything before he does?”

Abigail smirks, her eyes scanning me up and down as if checking me out. “I don’t think he’ll say much. I’ve got a funny feeling.”

“Why? Didja cast a spell on him?” I scoff. Abigail’s smirk only widens.

“You know, officer, I didn’t take you for someone who believes in magic.”

“I don’t. That was a joke.”

“Ah. That’s unfortunate. Magic is very real, you know. It exists all around us.”

I’m getting a little frustrated now. She’s clearly not intimidated and is having no problem dodging all of my questions. If anything, she seems to be toying with me. I get up from my chair, attempting to close the distance between us. I plan to get up close and personal, to really scare her.

But then, seemingly out of thin air, she pulls out a magic wand. The tiny black and white thing looks plastic, cheap, and not at all dangerous, but nevertheless she shouldn’t have it.

“Hey!” I shout, taking a step forward. “Where were you hiding that? I searched you completely!”

She shrugs, a grin forming on her face. “I guess you missed it. How unfortunate. Look here, please.”

Before I can snatch her stupid little stick away, she does some kind of movement with the wand, a twisty, spirally thing in the air, and a burst of sparkly dust erupts from the tip, washing over me. I stop in place. The sparkles feel kind of fuzzy and tickly, and as I notice them wisp into my ears and swirl around my brain I suddenly feel much calmer. She begins speaking to me softly. Her voice sounds so soothing and good now. As her words sink into my mind I realize there’s been a big mistake. She isn’t guilty at all!

Oh no, I’ve really messed up this time. I hurriedly rush to her side and undo her cuffs, throwing them onto the table. Apologies begin to spill from my mouth but she shushes me with her wand. Excess sparkles seem to rub off of her wand and cover my lips, and to my astonishment, I feel them change. They grow slightly larger, becoming perfectly plump, nice and round. Abigail sees this, and her expression changes, becomes curious. Then, she smiles a wicked smile, before tapping my forehead with her wand. “Boop,” she says and I feel my mind wash away.

I wake up from some kind of daydream, and for a moment I feel disoriented, with no idea where I am. But then recognition fills my silly little head. Of course. I’m in the boiler room! We need the privacy in here for what Abigail has in store for me. We’re playing good cop, bad cop together. I’m playing the “bad cop” right now. It’s a fun game, really. I’m a naughty cop who’s bad at her job. A bad cop that arrested the wrong person, and now I’m being punished.

I lower myself to the ground as much as I can. My heavy tits are smushed against the tiled floor, and my handcuffs jingle slightly as I adjust myself, trying to thrust out my ass as much as I can for Abigail. She seems to like this, and as a reward, she taps my ass with her magic wand. All at once, my pants disappear, replaced by a wonderfully tight pair of fishnet stockings, with a nice, big hole in the crotch to accentuate my ass and pussy. I moan as I feel the magic wash over my ass, causing it to swell in size, stretching the fishnets and my panties to the maximum. It feels heavenly, so good I could cum, but bad cops don’t get to cum. Only good cops get that.

I so badly want to be a good cop.

“I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the police ****.” Abigail smiles, as she teases my asshole with the wand, pushing it up against my already overstretched panties. “I’m also an escape artist, you know, and cops are by far the most fun to escape from.” I moan louder and louder with each prod, and liquid from my hot pussy begins to seep through and drip onto the floor. My asshole is buzzing and tingling, and I can feel it getting bigger and hungrier, needing to be filled.

Abigail seems to recognize my need. She twirls the wand and suddenly it becomes much longer, and much thicker. She wishes away my panties and slides the wand deep into my ass, letting it sink in. My moans grow so much louder as the wand starts to vibrate, filling me up with sensations I didn’t even know were possible.

“You’re a bad cop, aren’t you?” She spanks me and the pleasure ripples through my ass and up to my head like a tidal wave. Yes, god, I’m such a bad cop. My butt just feels so wonderful and tingly. So full. I wiggle my thick ass enticingly for Abigail, and she rewards me with a sigh of arousal. She keeps spanking as she talks, her words flowing into my brain effortlessly. I’m far too distracted by the warm feelings to resist. She tells me I’m no longer a real cop. That I’ve always been just too dumb. That I’m going to pretend to be a good cop for her but I’m only pretending and in reality, I’m just her dumb cop ****. Mistress’s dumb cop ****.

Drool drips from my inflated lips. I feel her words becoming more and more true with every spank. I’m lost in a world of pleasure, and I barely register myself speaking, obediently repeating along Mistress’s commands. My voice sounds so dreamy and dumb. I will be a good cop for Mistress. I will go upstairs and clear Mistress’s records from the database. I will bring all the, like, hottest girls in the station to Mistress, so they can be just like me. Of course I will. I’m just a dumb cop **** for Mistress, after all. It’s, like, my job.

As I repeat the last of my instructions, Mistress lays one final naughty spank on my ass. I instantly cum the last remaining bits of my brains out, feeling white-hot pleasure explode within me. My juices soak the floor underneath as I ride the wave of pleasure, causing my legs to buckle. I can feel the wand spurting magic within me. I can feel my purpose in life changing. The magic settles comfortably over me as I awaken into my new reality as a happy, docile cop **** for my Mistress.

As Mistress uncuffs me and I walk out of the boiler room, eager to obey her commands, I feel kind of strange about this whole thing. Like, all of this seems so sudden, you know? I want to make my mistress proud, but I've never been a **** before, so I’m a bit anxious. I really want to do a good job for her.

But, I don't wanna worry too much. Honestly, I feel pretty happy. And why wouldn't I? I finally get to be a good cop.