A female police officer

Mark’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he pulled the car away from the supermarket.

“Christ, Emma,” he muttered. “A bloody police officer. Of all people.”

Emma sat rigid in her seat, staring straight ahead. The envelope, the obscene photos, were now in the hands of law enforcement. Her pulse hammered in her ears. “She… she’ll know it’s me,” she whispered, almost to herself.

Mark started the car and with a screech of tyres drove.

Neither of them spoke again on the drive home.

An hour later, the knock came. Three sharp raps on the front door.

Mark froze halfway through pacing the living room. Emma looked up, wide-eyed.

The officer stood there in full uniform when Emma opened the door: tall, severe, early thirties with tied-back blonde hair her uniform did nothing to hide the impressive rack. The same woman Emma vaguely recognised from the local high street patrols. She held the envelope casually in one hand, as though it were just another piece of paperwork.

“Well,” the officer said coolly, eyes flicking from Emma to Mark behind her. “That didn’t take long. CCTV picked up your little stunt. Easy to match the car registration.” She let the words hang, then stepped inside uninvited.

Emma’s legs felt weak. “Please,” she said quietly, “we… it was just… we didn’t think—”

The officer cut her off with a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think you did. You wanted this found. You wanted me to see what a filthy little exhibitionist you are.” She opened the envelope, fanned the photos between her gloved fingers. “Every inch of you on display… you actually get off on strangers staring at you like a cheap whore, don’t you?”

Emma’s face burned crimson. She shook her head instinctively, but her body betrayed her — a hot ache building in her belly at the sheer cruelty of the woman’s voice.

The officer’s eyes gleamed. She stepped closer, close enough that Emma could feel the faint scent of leather and perfume beneath the uniform. “If I were to do my job properly, I’d be hauling you both down to the station. Indecency, distribution of obscene material… plenty to choose from.”

Mark cleared his throat, voice cracked. “We’ll… we’ll do anything to avoid that.”

The officer’s lips curled into a slow, sadistic smile. “Anything?”

Emma looked up at her, humiliation flooding through her veins. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’ll do anything.”

(ED Note for more on the cop see https://chyoa.com/story/A-policewomans-lot.66639 )