Fuck Tha Police

Before leaving with Sunil, Clarke uncuffed Ria but left her on her back soaked in piss and retching like a possessed animal.

Once the retching had finally drained her stomach of filth. Ria just lay there, motionless, and soulless. Nothing was left. Just a shell. She felt worthless and used. Subhuman. Disgusted, downtrodden and feeling utterly ashamed. Ria felt life wasn’t worth living.

After a few minutes Nushrat came back with a couple of the girls. They were carrying a load towels and cleaning products. Nushrat stooped down and helped Ria to her feet while one of the other women wrapped a towel around the broken Ria. Despite there being an inch of body fluids on the floor the girls didn’t seem overly repulsed. It was as if they had witnessed such scenes of debauchery before. So, they went about cleaning the room as if it were nothing more than a Spring clean.

Ria offered to help but they would not let her, pointing for Ria to go to the showers and rest.

They were doing their best to show Ria some kindness in her moment of total despair. Ria smile was filled with sadness.

Upstairs in the shower room, Ria lathered her body in soap for what felt like an eternity. Yet she still felt dirty as if the dirt had engrained itself deep within her. It was as if Clarke has tainted her soul.

Washed and dried, Ria walked back to her cell like room where she climbed into bed. There she cried into the shallow pillow which offered little comfort. She sobbed and sobbed until her tear ducts could no longer feed her tears of sadness. Never in her worst nightmares had Ria dreamt she could be subjected to such sordid treatment.

Ria was convinced Clarke was evil. To her he was the devil himself.

But then the most amazing thing happened.

During the early hours Ria suddenly sat upright in bed. She had a spurt for positive energy and felt possessed by a courage that filled her bones. She decided to stop being complicit in her own downfall, and that the only way she could forgive herself would be if she put up a fight and tried to escape.

Ria climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed into a basic ochre coloured kurta (Long flowing thigh length top) This would allow Ria to blend in with the locals. By the sound of distant moans some of the girls were still working but it was quieter that a few hours before. She still had her passport and bank cards and placed them into her backpack. It had surprised her that Clarke had never asked for her passport and money – a way of controlling her. Yet the fact he hadn’t was another display of his utter arrogance—that he believed she wouldn’t dare try and escape.

Well, Ria was determined to prove Clarke wrong.

Ria left her room with just a backpack, leaving only with her valuables and walked soft footed down the corridor and down the stairs. In the waiting room on the ground floor, there was a man sleeping on the couch with his trousers around his ankles. She left the accommodation block and crossed the dark compound towards the lit gatehouse. Stealthily approaching the guard post, Ria soon heard his rhythmic snoring … the elderly security guard was asleep.

She tiptoed past the guard then burst into a sprint down the pitch-black street in the direction of the bus terminal she arrived at a few days before.

There was little in the way of streetlighting and ghostly shadows were all around. She only had the sound of the night for company, fighting dogs, noisy crickets, and the odd passing car – which she always avoided being caught in the headlamps.

Ria felt scared but determined. Her smartphone was fully charged but useless as it needed a local SIM card. So, her first mission was to buy a SIM so she could organise her return home.

Ria smelt the unmistakable smell of baking bread as she approached a brightly lit building. As she passed the front of the bakery, she saw a masked man placing a tray of bread rolls in the window in anticipation of the early morning customers. She felt tempted to stop but needed to get some distance between herself and the brothel.

Her belly rumbled in protest for the length of the dark street.

It was going to be a long night.

The bus terminal consisted of four simple concrete shelters, a small, closed ticket office and a few parked buses locked du p for the night. Ria’s heart sank as saw a sleeping group of street children huddled together in one of shelters. It was perhaps a timely reminder to Ria of no matter how bad life can feel, there’s always others worse off than yourself.

Although tired, Ria didn’t’ want to sleep as she knew she was highly vulnerable to pickpockets and worse. Plus, she had to keep a vigilant eye out for Clarke. In a bid to bide her time she walked around the dimply lit bus station. But the past week was taking its toll on her body and mind, meaning Ria soon felt weak at the knees and her eyelids felt heavy.

After an hour she took a seat on a bench and felt her eyes closing over. In the end she snuggled down, using her backpack as a pillow, and drifted into a deep sleep.

~

Ria’s head slammed onto the cold concrete of the bench. Her eyes opened and she saw a dirty skinny boy in rag clothing running off towards the slums.

He was carrying away Ria’s backpack.

Under the pale light of morning, Ria jumped to feet and gave chase. Ria ran after him down the tight narrow shanty streets, running further and deeper into the poverty-stricken slum. There were people now on the streets beginning there days, meaning she had to through the crowd.

The boy expertly bobbed and weaved through the masked crowds and Ria soon lost sight of her juvenile thief.

Ria kept up the chase as far as she could but her lungs were burning and her stomach was beginning to cramp. Disheartened and distraught, Ria doubled over exhaustion. Without her bank cards, smartphone and passport… she was stranded. Looking into blue sky above, Ria cried, “Why!”

Life had never felt so cruel.

~

Back at the bus station Ria now didn’t have the money to buy a ticket and believed Lady Luck had truly abandoned her. The temperature was now rising and the morning commute was well underway. She saw a chubby policeman eating a filled roti for breakfast. Wanting to report the stolen backpack she walked towards him. The policeman saw Ria approaching and took one last bite of the roti before placing his mask on. He then pointed to his mask and shouted in Hindi.

Ria explained, “Sorry, officer. I can’t speak Hindi. I’m English, and I want to report a crime.”

“Mask. Mask.”

“I haven’t got a mask.” The policeman continued to speak in Hindi to which Ria replied “I don’t speak Hindi, officer. Only English.”

“Mask. Where is mask?”

Ria was low on patience and snapped. “I don’t fucking have a mask! Okay?”

“Mask or I will arrest you.” The policeman was visibly losing his cool and starting to get fidgety. “COVID 19. Lockdown. No mask. No outside.”

“I have to be outside... I was on my way to the airport but was robbed by a small street boy.”

“Go back to hotel.” The policeman stepped back and unhooked his telescopic baton from his belt. “No flights. COVID 19.”

“I have been robbed. A crime was committed against me. Don’t you care?”

The policeman extended his baton as if he were ready to strike. ”Get back. Go back to Hotel or I will arrest you. “

“OK, OK. I’m going back to my… hotel.” Ria took a few steps back then turned and paced across the bus station. Once on the far side of the station she glanced over her shoulder to see the policeman once again eating his roti. As he was eating he was clearly perving at a group of young schoolgirls in uniform.

Ria pondered begging from passing commuters and the street sellers that were opening their popup stores around the bus station. As she continued to ponder this Ria saw a large modern coach pull into the bus station. On the front of the coach, a large LED sign read Mumbai Airport Express. Ria thought it was a guiding hand from God and her best bet of an escape from her nightmare.

But how to get on without the money to buy a ticket? As Ria contemplated how to get on board she watched as the bus conductor alighted then open the luggage bays above the axel.

Ria slowly walked towards the luggage bays, she thought with a bit of luck she could sneak inside. But she’d obviously need the conductor to be distracted.

As luck would have it the conductor was busy checking names on his manifest against ID cards. Ria walked to the back of the bus, so she was out of sight. With her back pressed against the cold aluminium body of the coach, she then began to sneak towards the open luggage bays. Ria was sweating profusely as the pressure built. With every step closer Ria felt fainter. It was then she spotted Clarke and Sunil approaching the bus station on foot.

Now at the open-door Ria darted inside climbing over the cases and luggage.

There was no shouting. No one seemed to have seen her. Ria’s far-flung hopes of escape now felt like a real possibility.

In the cool darkness Ria lay in silence. Soon she would be airport bound. She felt excited and started dreaming of home and returning to a life put on hold by the hideous Clarke Carlisle. She could almost smell home, and began to dream of being back in the arms of her beloved Dan.

Ria head footsteps of passengers on the ceiling of the luggage bay. She held her breath and listened.

But suddenly there was daylight as trap door opened above. Squinting in the daylight, Ria saw the policeman.

Shouting in Hindi, the policeman dragged Ria up by her hair. She kicked and screamed but was flung to the floor face first. The policeman then began to hammer Ria with blows from his baton on her upper legs and ass. She cried. “OK, OK. You’ve got me.”

“No mask. No ticket. No honour.”

“OK, Just… just don’t hit me again.”

The policeman then knelt on her ass and forced her hands behind her back where he then cuffed them. Worried about contracting this strange new COVID virus, he needed a mask for Ria to wear. He could not use her Kurta or trousers as it would offend the public and cause moral panic.

He then had a thought.

The policeman bunched up Ria’s kurta around her waist, exposing her trousers, She panicked, “What are you doing?”

In one swoop he slipped down Ria’s trousers to her brown thighs which got her kicking and screaming. He then pulled a penknife from his pocket, and began cutting the elastic waistbands of her pink cotton panties and pulled the them free.

After pulling her pants back up the policeman folded the panties over. He then lifted Ria’s head off the floor by her hair, and wrapped the panties across her face then tied and knotted the waistband behind her ears. Ria was now having to breathe through the ass of her panties and looking through the leg holes. Dragging Ria up by her cuffed arms he turned her to face him and smiled at his own handy work. Please with his work, he turned Ria about once more and led her off the coach. “Lead me to where you’re staying.”

Ria had no choice but to walk panty headed, smelling the earthly scent of her sweaty backside with every step. The temperature was rising making it hard to breathe through the fabric. She felt light-headed but the fact she could see people looking at her kept her grounded. Their stares burned Ria with ridicule, and her ears stung with the laughs of the children.

Some of the children began running around Ria, slapping and kicking her before sprinting sway. But worse was to come and a few of the women took off their shoes and began hitting Ria with their shoes and sandals. The policeman began shouting something in Hindi, ordering them away.

The blows were hard and really hurt Ria. Tears ran from her tear ducts and Ria cried, “Why are they hitting me?”

“Because you’re refusing to wear a mask and spreading COVID in their community.”

The policeman made a half-hearted effort to fend off the attacks on Ria, but she still got struck repeatedly on her arm and legs.

The angry public finally lost interest.

At the factory gates the elderly guard, as usual, was asleep. He slept that much Ria was beginning to think him dead. She stopped and looked at the policeman. Her voice was muffled by the panty mask, her tongue ample to taste the sweat of her arse. “I am living here.”

“You’re a textile worker?”

“Yes.”

The policeman appeared confused. “But you’re English, no?”

“Yes I am.”

“You think I’m a fool? No English woman would work here? You’re Indian like me.”

“No. No of course not, I am English.”

The policeman pushed Ria through the open gateway. “Then take me inside and prove it. I want to see some evidence.”

As Ria walked, still wearing her panties as a mask, she had no choice but to lead the officer to her bedroom, where she has a couple of pictures hidden within her luggage of her wedding back in the UK. But taking him to the brothel might complicate things for Sunil as such establishments are illegal.

As Ria stepped into the ground floor waiting room of the brothel a couple of girls who were using mopping the floor quickly scarpered upstairs. The policeman soon realised what sort of establishment it was, and it was confirmed by a box of dildos on the coffee table. “Is this a brothel? He waited for an answer that didn’t come. He then asked a second time. “Are you a prostitute?”

“No. Well... It’s complicated. I have an arrangement with the owner.”

The policeman smiled. “We can have our own arrangement.”

“Men. Always trying to take advantage of me.”

“I’ll find the boy who robbed you, and get your passport back… in return, you can give me your body for the night.”

“You suddenly speak good English.”

“I am quick learner.” The policeman removed the panties from Ria’s face, then put them in his pocket for later. “You can call me Raj.”

“I need to get out of here, Raj.”

“You’ll be drinking tea with the Queen in no time.”

“Very funny.”

“I’ll be back tonight at 10pm with your things… I have the right contacts in the slum.”

Ria whispers were loaded with concern. “You can’t leave me here. They’ll know I’ve been talking to the police.”

“Just say, you were found mask-less in the market.” Raj wrote a ticket then handed it to Ria. “There, 1000Rs fine as proof. And tell them I had to escorted you back home.”

Ria glanced at the fine. “Jesus… thanks.”

“Thank me later… by the way.” Raj sneered a devilish grin. “I like it rough. So rough… I never get to use the same whore twice.”

“

Clarke was waiting for Ria at the top of the stairs. His face was full of concern. “What was that?”

“I just wanted some fresh air. But I got robbed and fined. Talk about a bad day.”

Clarke dragged her into a side room and closed the door over. He sneered, “Well at least you see what can happen, bloody idiot. Never bring a policeman here again, do you realise danger you put the other girls in?”

“I know.”

“Bringing the police here, means they will most probably come and close this place now. None of the girls are kept here, against their will. Believe it or not most of them see it as a career. Yes, they might just be selling themselves. But at least they have a safe place to do so. Half the girls here would be just doing the same, but in dark streets where murderers and rapists lurk.”

“Sorry.”

“Sunil will go apeshit when he finds out, but I’ll have to find a way to appease him.” He opened the door and gestured for Ria to leave. “Go.”

~

That night Ria didn’t get her usual embarrassment or torture. Clarke and Sunil were nowhere to be seen – no doubt staying low in case of police raid. Ria dressed herself up like a pretty Indian wife in green and gold Kurta and trousers and a face full of makeup. At 10pm she walked down and waited in the waiting room with the other girls. Sure enough there was Raj dressed in his everyday clothes, a leather jacket and denim jeans. He looked like the disgusting greaseball he was.

Although the men in the room had their regular girls, all their attention was now on Ria.

Raj had the same perverted grin as Clarke. Ria's self-esteem had waned and her belief in herself had gone. She felt no matter what was about to happen to her, was her fault, as she had brought Raj here. She has endangered the girls, and threaten to make their difficult lives even worse.

Ria’s heart pounded in her chest as she cautiously approached Raj. “Hi.”