1 comments/ 10398 views/ 1 favorites The Job Is On The Streets By: scotjock1 (This is not a true account of anything, I have just written a piece of imaginary fantasy - based on television, and films about the Police here in the UK. I have added some of my own elements to spice up the story, no characters in this story are real and all characters are 18 or above in age) Well here is my account of my first few years on the job, as a Police Officer in London in the Metropolitan Police Service. I joined the service at the height of it's recruitment, in the early 2000's and passed with immediate pass grade through the training, before being sent to a borough of my choosing - sadly the three boroughs I put down in my application were looked over, and I was sent to a 'priority borough' in the city; namely the borough of Brent. For those who don't know London, UK that very well - Brent is where the famous Wembley Arena and Football grounds is located, where the big teams played pivotal football games. Sadly the borough is also home to some of the worst council estates, deprived housing schemes and areas in the entire city. This makes it home to some of the most brutal, violent criminals and gangs in the entire city. I learned that the hard way when I was on night shift, only a few weeks into my Probationary Period when I was called to a nasty domestic on a council estate known for violence, and crime - the main gang on the estate was the notorious Church Road Soldiers (CRS) who are still active to this day. They were known to attack Police, and even attempt to murder officers if they could get away with it. This particular night, I was called to an address where officers needed assistance in arresting a male husband, who had struck his wife. I got to the address just as the officers rolled out of the property, four officers in total and they landed onto the floor as the husband shoved them out of his house. The guy was fucking huge, a massive black guy who looked high on drugs - he had to be about 300lbs in weight, his arms and legs were muscular and his entire chest was the size of a car door. He was a nasty piece of work, I charged in - like a rookie would, as I was the single-crew in my Police car. I ran in to confront the massive giant, and went for my CS spray on my kit-belt, and brought it up to aim at his chest, and slowly raise it to his face as I would spray. I shouted out, in an uncertain tone to make him aware of my presence, if he wanted to surrender. "Police! Get away from the officers now or I will deploy CS spray against you!" I shouted out, at the top of my lungs to be heard of the growing crowd around us, coming out from their homes to see the spectacle. "Fuck you!" The big, burly man grunted at me and tried to swing his arm at me. I dodged it, and took a step back from him; still holding the spray canister in my hand aimed at his chest. I had to act, and I pressed hard on the canister's button, to release the spray. As I had been taught in training school at Hendon Police College, if you deploy CS spray then you must warn your colleges nearby; and they were very close to me, on the floor. "CS deployed!" I shouted as I pressed down on the release button, the spray shot out and hit the man's chest soaking his navy blue t-shirt in the liquid. What we all expected to happen, never did. The spray hit the man's chest, and I raised the canister as the contents continued to spill onto the man's neck and eventually his face. But he never flinched, he never stumbled; he never gave any sign of actually being affected by the CS spray. The man wiped the liquid from his face, and he had a look of terror in his eyes. We were told at training school that some people are immune to the effects of CS spray naturally, because of their bodies and biology. Others are immune to CS spray when under the effects of drugs; Cannabis, Heroin, Crack Cocaine, and certain stimulant drugs can make the user immune to the effects of CS spray. Now this guy must have taken one of the drugs that can make a person oblivious, or immune to the effects of CS spray and he went for me. At full speed, he barged into me sending me flying over a nearby metal fence. As I hit the grass in front of the property, I was a few inches from one of the other officers who was holding his ribs where he was hurt. "Did you call firearms support down here?" I asked him. The officer was seasoned, and experienced; I had seen him a lot around the Police Station and had gone out with him on some shifts as his partner. Today I was solo, and he was with another male officer who was next to him, slowly rising to his feet. "We called them, they're en route but they're at least five more minutes away from us." The officer told me, as I saw the big, burly man enter the property again slamming the door shut behind him. "Fuck it, this guy is hopped up on something. We won't be able to get into the flat with him in there, who else is inside?" I asked him. The officer grunted, as he ran his hand across the grass to retrieve his ASP, or Police Baton that had come loose. "When we got to the address; the wife, and two sons were inside. Before they guy flipped out, the sons left and went to a friend's house. It's just the wife and husband in there now." The officer explained holding his baton in his left hand. I sighed, and felt a stinging feeling in my side and gently touched it; fuck it hurt! Most Police officers in the UK wear stab-vests, also called Met Vests. They can stop most blades and knives, and have pouches on them for your paperwork, booklets and pens. The personal radios we are issued are clipped onto the tops of our vests, and we can easily get to them if we need to call for assistance. I grabbed a hold of my radio, and pressing the transmit button on it's side and spoke clearly, and loudly down the transmitter. "Control, this is (my shoulder number).Where is our firearms assistance? We are pinned down by the male suspect, he's clearly under the influence of drugs. CS spray has been deployed, yet he is unaffected." I stated down the radio clearly. There was a myriad of calls all down the fucking line, officers nearby stating they were en route and India 99, the overhead helicopter had been called in to give support as well due to the nature of the incident. But no response from control, or support channels to my call. "Control, I say again where is our firearms support?" I asked again, almost screaming down the radio. In the distance, we could hear the Police sirens nearby, but also the crashing and destruction of furniture inside the flat; the husband was destroying the entire property now. "(shoulder number), firearms support is en route. There TOA (time of arrival) is going to be five more minutes they claim. What is your update of the situation?" The young woman back at control spoke up, finally some fucking communication. I breathed hard, control your pulse and your breathing - and then speak clearly. "Status of male; he is inside the property now, he has locked officers out and is clearly violent, and under the influence of drugs. He is currently damaging furniture and unknown objects within the flat now, myself and four other officers are outside; some are injured. Request LAS (London Ambulance Service) to this address, for officers injuries and female occupant inside the flat. Unknown if she is injured or not, over." I stated clearly down the radio, letting go of the transmit button. There was a loud crashing noise from inside the flat, it sounded like glass being broken. I shuffled closer to the fencing separating me from the other four officers spread out all over the front garden. As I moved the radio came to life again. "(shoulder number), LAS is en route but will keep a safe distance from the property upon their arrival." Control said. I breathed hard, remember the finer details - the substance is in the details, remember and pass it on. "Control, tell LAS en route that the male suspect looks to be on some sort of stimulant, and the immediate area of the property's front door is contaminated with CS that I deployed. Word of warning to the LAS crew." I explained, releasing the transmit button. Immediately after that, I heard another big crash from inside the house - and the screaming wife inside was wailing loudly, probably as the husband was trashing the flat. "He's going to hurt her, if we don't get in there." I said to the officer next to me, on the other side of the fence. The officer I was speaking to, I knew only his surname as it was on the Velcro bar stuck to his stab vest; Conway. "Relax, Anderson." PC Conway said to me, covering his face with his arm. By the way I am PC (Police Constable James Anderson) and like Conway, my surname was on my stab vest sewn into the Velcro pad. Conway sighed, running a hand through his graying short, black hair. "This fucker is hopped up on something, we go in there like we all just did - one of us is going to be leaving in a body bag." Conway said in his experienced, assertive tone. I understood what he meant, the next time we went charging in there - the husband would hit one of us hard enough, that we wouldn't get back up again. He could even be armed inside, we just didn't know anything about the situation. Making a fatal mistake, it could end badly for one of us; and Conway had many years on the job, I was the rookie here. The sirens grew closer, and in the distance at the bottom of the street connecting onto the main busy road we could see coming Police vehicles including the lead vehicle; a red Police car. This was a firearms car, and they were en route to us. Red was the color of the car, it distinguishes it as a firearms vehicle, and cars that were not red were simple patrol, cars; maybe one of the officers on-board would have a taser but that was about it. People reading this must understand that British Police here in the UK, do not carry firearms - only trained officers carry them, and if firearms support is needed for an armed suspect then normal, unarmed officers call down for their help over the radio. Some people would find this unusual, but as a Police force we've never had to carry guns unless we have to - we have trained officers for that specific role. But seeing that red bodywork, the flashing blue lights on it's roof coming towards us was a blessed feeling - this guy may have felt like a tough guy, but now our armed, tough men were here to settle the score. The red armed RV (Response Vehicle) pulled up quickly along the curb of the road, followed by two normal unarmed RV's that pulled up behind it. Behind all three vehicles was an ambulance, and it pulled up behind the normal RV's. The armed crew of the red, firearms response vehicle dismounted; jumping out onto the street. These officers always carried Glock pistols, an additional taser, tougher-made handcuffs, and other kit that only armed officers would need on their person. Everything else was in the locked box in the boot of the vehicle where there would be more than one MP5 Heckler & Koch sub-machine gun, probably a shotgun, and additional ammunition with a bullet-proof shield and vest for a victim who has already been shot and injured. They moved quickly, in their firearm proof vests. They were far thicker than our regular stab vests we wore, and had many more pouches and extras on theirs. I heard they were specially bought from America, and sent over for our armed officers. They moved over to us, upholstering their Glock pistols, there were three armed officers in total, and seeing them allowed us to stand from the floor safely. "Where is the suspect?" The lead armed officer asked, he had three chevrons above his shoulder number on his vest, meaning he was a Sergeant. He looked to be in his thirties, and his name badge read; Sergeant Williams and he had his Glock in both his hands as he looked at me. "Inside, he's inside with his wife; he's hopped up on something, a stimulant. My CS didn't effect him, he's either immune naturally or from the drugs he's on. He's been trashing the flat for the last five minutes, we don't know the state of his wife, but she was screaming a few minutes ago." I explained to the Sergeant. The Sergeant nodded, and put his right hand up as a signal to the two other armed officers. "We're going to force entry, and deploy the taser on the fucker. If he is still able to resist the effects of the taser, try and take him down with your batons. We cannot deploy lethal force on a guy who's hopped up on stimulants - it's not reasonable force." The Sergeant explained to me and the other four officers. We agreed, and stayed aside - on the fringes of the front door of the property taking our Police batons from our pouches on our kit-belts. "Get ready, once they force entry and taser the guy - if he is still able to fight and resist, we will deploy batons and strike his legs. Take him down as carefully as we can and force an arrest on him." PC Conway explained our tactics. We waited; I cannot explain how intense the wait is, as you wait for the moment to strike - I hoped the taser would be enough to take him down, I didn't want to deploy my baton, it would be a lot of paperwork to explain why we used them. Moments passed, then we heard the crash of the front door being forced open with the Enforcer, a battering-ram used to force entry into properties. The door snapped in two, it was made of plastic so it wasn't a surprise it didn't stand up to the Enforcer. It fell through, and the three armed officers stepped inside led by the Sergeant. "Armed Police, down on the floor now or we will deploy tasers!" Sergeant Williams screamed like a broken microphone, he was loud, clear and precise. I couldn't make out what the suspect said in response, I just heard shouting as the Sergeant made his threat clear once more. "I repeat, I will deploy taser if you do not stand down!" Sergeant Williams threatened. I hoped he would surrender, I hoped he would back down - but that never happens, he went for the armed officers and then I heard the order. "Taser deployed!" Sergeant Williams stated. I heard screaming, from the wife and grunting noises I assumed from the husband who had just been tasered - his body reacted in the only way it knew how to when being pulsed by electricity. I hoped that this was enough, the taser put down the husband; but then I saw the three armed men backing out of the flat back out towards us - a tactical retreat. "Taser isn't working! Deploy your batons!" Sergeant Williams screamed at me as he was the last to back out of the property, still with the wires of his taser extended and pinned into the husband's chest. He pressed the trigger once more, sending another shock through the husband but he still kept coming shouting and throwing abuse at us all. Armed Police here in the UK have to be careful, they must have good reason for every bullet, or taser shot they use - they must use reasonable force for it. Same goes for regular officers with their CS spray, and every strike of their batons must be justified. I had to justify everything - every action I must justify my reasons for them. "Deploy fucking ASP's now!" Sergeant Williams roared at me literally in my face as he passed me, backing away from the male suspect. ASP's are Police batons, just to explain that point to you readers. I moved in first, better to be first at the party than the last man to leave - I struck the suspect in his legs and he grunted, but didn't flinch. Fuck what was this guy, a bloody giant. The other officers including Conway moved in striking his legs, and even the back of his legs. After a few failed strikes. Conway got a well-placed strike on the back of the man's legs and he crumbled to the floor shaking but still trying to resist. We moved quick, we took him down to the floor and forced handcuffs on his wrists - they weren't mine or Conway's, but one of the other officers handcuffs. Sergeant Williams moved in and removed the pins of the taser from the man's chest, and moved away. "You guys got this? We need to do the paperwork for this back at the nick, for the taser." Sergeant Williams asked me, and I nodded. The armed officers moved away to their vehicle, and the Sergeant spoke again. "If we need to clarify details for the paperwork, we'll be at the station." He said, and I quickly noted down his shoulder number and surname on the back of my hand in pen. I nodded, and they were soon gone. The other officers who arrived, normal unarmed officers who were on the same shift as me left once we had the scene under control. We soon got the husband in the back of one of the prisoner vans that soon arrived; sadly this rewarded me a slap across the face when the abused wife refused to press charges, and demanded we released him. We told her no, and sadly I was facing her when she struck me. So we arrested her for 'Assault On Police' on top of her husband's charge of assault on her, and assault on Police as well. We quickly got them both back to the Police Station in Wembley, in separate vans and got them through custody as quickly as we could so we could start our paperwork - a lot of paperwork. I managed to get away after the prisoners were moved to their cells, and I got one of the vending machines in the station and bought a can of Pepsi and a pack of Cheese & Onion crisps. I took my snacks to the writing room used by officers, and began my notes. The notes took hours to complete, by the time I was finished I had gone through three cans of Pepsi and two packs of Crisps. By the time I booked off my hours, and got changed into my civilian clothes it was almost 5am in the morning. I got on my bicycle, and rode home - I lived locally. It just so happened that in the early hours of the morning I came across a mature, voluptuous black woman driving home under the influence of alcohol as I rode alongside her - and this would begin my dark chapters in my Police career. The day I took advantage of my position, and job. But let's leave that until the next part, OK guys. All feedback is appreciated, and any comments I will take into consideration. Any ideas you have for the next installment then please comment. Thank You and I hope you enjoyed this installment. The Job Is On The Streets Ch. 02 (This is not a true account of anything, I have just written a piece of imaginary fantasy - based on television, and films about the Police here in the UK. I have added some of my own elements to spice up the story, no characters in this story are real and all characters are 18 or above in age) I was cycling home on my bicycle towards my home, I had changed from my uniform into jeans, and a simple black t-shirt with my blue hooded top over it. I made it a point of not appearing, or dressing like a cop - anything could happen to me off-duty and being an off-duty cop doesn't protect you; it makes you a target. I had my night lights on the front of my bicycle as I turned a corner into an industrial estate, I wasn't far from my flat. I was peddling down the quiet, dark road; some of the street lighting was practically destroyed, and not working. A large chunk of the street was in darkness, when out of nowhere a blue Toyota almost knocked me off my bike, the car swerved to avoid me and it was clear the driver wasn't paying attention to the road. I should have let it go, but when I saw the car abruptly come to a stop in the center of the road, in the darkness - I decided to give the arsehole some words of advice as an off-duty Police Officer. I peddled right up to the driver's window of the car, and peered inside - I couldn't see much, so I pulled my mobile phone out and found the torch app on the phone and shone the light inside. There was a mature, well I would place her age at least in her thirties slumped over the steering wheel, barely conscious. "Ma'am, are you alright?" I asked her clearly. She moaned, if it could be called that and she groaned trying to lift her head from the wheel; her eyes were glazed over. "What the hell?" She managed to say, but it was laced with tiredness. "What the fuck, are you high or drunk miss?" I asked her, my voice laced with authority as I switched from concerned to my Police tone. She mumbled something, but it was inaudible - but something else caught my interest in her. This stupid bitch, who could have caused a fatal car crash in her state was none other than a woman who from briefings knew to be Aitsha Williams. Now I work in the borough of Brent, but I live in the borough of Hammersmith and Fulham in West London, where I was right at that moment and this Ms Williams I had found in her car, was the mother of a notorious gang banger in the area, on a bad council scheme which was always on our briefings. His name was Ryan Williams, known on the street as "Mackie 10" in reference to his preference of using a Mac-10 sub-machine gun in drive-by shootings, and at least two murders we, the Police knew he was responsible for. He was a murderer and well known on the street as a drug dealer, well a sort of unofficial supervisor who oversaw four drug dealers on the street, and he collected the takings from them every day. Police Intelligence showed that Ryan was a high-ranking member of the notorious local gang named MDP (Murder Dem Pussies) gang, located on one of the worst council scheme estates in the entire country. The estate from where I was standing right now, was only about a fifteen minute walk away. The MDP came to the media's attentions after numerous bloody murders occurred between the MDP and their rivals, and obviously some innocents along the way as well. Ryan was suspected of two murders that he committed with a Mac-10 sub-machine gun, with other gang members, and responsible for overseeing the gang's drug distribution on the estate, or at least some of the gang's drug interests. Intelligence put his wealth at about £50,000 that he had accumulated in his short life on the streets, he was only 19 now and the murders were believed of to have been committed by him when he was only 14. He was regarded as cold-blooded, brutal and nasty towards rivals or those in his gang who did not add to the accumulation of cash, due to their incompetence and idiocy. This brings me back to his mother Aitisha, and she was known as a hood-mommy as she was a mother to an active or notorious gang banger. She wasn't just known as a 'Hood Mommy' for her son, she had a long record of offences she had been arrested for or charged for going back over ten years, and she was only thirty eight at this moment in time. Everything from drunk and disorderly, to criminal damage, and even common assault on a woman who had called Atisha's son an animal, as he was rising through the gang ranks as a teenager. She broke the poor woman's nose, and gave her a black, bruised eye for weeks it claimed in the briefing. Even on the briefings about the area, she was a notable character and constant troublemaker towards Police Officers when they were ever called to the estate over something, and she was known to flout driving restrictions, and drive without the correct license, or sometimes when drunk or under the influence of drugs. This wouldn't be her first time being caught out, that was for sure. I looked further into the car, and noticed several bags of green, herbal substance in the area around the gear stick, and handbrake. I'm not talking about a bit of Cannabis in the bags, I'm talking about them being wad-thick, and at least a few hundred pounds Sterling worth of the drugs. It wasn't the only thing that caught my attention, as in among those bags of Cannabis there was one single bag, of white pills. It was either Speed or LSD in pill form, and carried a heavy prison sentence for possessing it; a higher penalty than with possessing just Cannabis. With her string of offences, she was looking at a prison sentence; no community service, no bail, nothing. This was a big result, we could put away Atisha and maybe hit Ryan hard, if his mother wasn't around to support him. I moved in closer to the car, and called out her name. "Ms Atisha Williams, answer me." I said clearly, and loudly. "Oh fuck off." She mumbled back to me, her hand lazily pushing aside her dark, brown dreadlocks from her face. I moved in closer, and all of sudden she slid sideways in her chair towards the passenger, slouched over. I assumed the worst; drug overdose, but I then heard her light, quiet snores as she was sleeping. "What the fuck?" I asked myself, even in words it made no sense. Now what do I do? I thought to myself. She was sleeping, and most likely going to choke on her own vomit if left on her own, and with the serious offences facing her I couldn't just let her off, and ride away. I couldn't call this in either to the Police - not if I wanted to take advantage of her situation. An idea came to my mind; I could take her back to my place, drive her to my place with my bicycle in the boot, and handcuff her to a chair in my flat. When she came about, I would then present all of the evidence against her I had - and give her a choice, inform on her son's gang, and their activities or go away for a while to prison for possession of drugs. It was risky - hell it could end up with me going to prison, or worse if Atisha talked her son into just killing a Copper or Cop. But it could also make my career for the Police, if I could turn-over a good informant, and source for intelligence. I decided to just go for it, I could make a career out of Atisha, and I was going to make her pay in someway for what she had done to other people. I moved towards the key in the ignition, and slipped it out as she lay there almost comatose in her state. I moved around the car to the boot, and opened it with the key before shoving my bike into it, and closing the boot on it. I quietly stepped around the car, and leaned inside the car again from the driver's window. I could now see that she was quite an attractive woman; Atisha. She was quite voluptuous, particularly around her chest, hips, thighs and legs but her torso beneath her chest was quite petite, and slim. She was a very 'street woman' particularly with what she was wearing. Being that there was either Speed or LSD in the car, I assumed she had gone clubbing or dancing. She was wearing a pair of extremely tight jeggings, thick leggings made to look like jeans; they were blue in color. She was also wearing a matching silk, blue vest that i assumed would shine in the right light on a dance floor. She had black dreadlocks that reached her collar, and from the briefings about her; she had hazel eyes. She had a massive arse, from what I remembered in a recorded video of her that was attached to a briefing on her; it was a recording by sharp, crystal clear CCTV. One evening she was out dancing, and clubbing with friends in the West End, and on the way home she had got into a dispute with another feisty woman on local transport. She struck the woman in the face, when she confronted her about something, and the first thing that struck me about Atisha was her large, hell they were massive fucking tits - at least DD's and her fat arse. It wasn't just fat, it was muscular and toned naturally and in the CCTV footage she had been wearing regular, dark leggings. They rode up her arse crack, and showed her large arse cheeks - and as she moved around the other woman in a menacing manner, her arse looked great. And even now looking down at her, slouched into the passenger seat I could see her large ass, even from the sides, and her thick, womanly thighs. I opened the car door, and undid her seat-belt, and slid her into the passenger seat as I slid into her now vacant seat. I wasted no time, and shoved the key in the ignition - purring the engine into life, I drove us both towards my place along the side streets. This was the biggest risk I ever took in my life, or short Police career - I was effectively kidnapping Atisha, and when she woke that would mean I was culpable of that very offence. I would also be forcing, or coercing a person to become an informant or source of intelligence, we are taught as Police Officers that informants can be a dangerous thing if guidelines are not followed. I had effectively broken every guideline in the book with Atisha - an unaware, potential informant. The back streets cut our journey short, and we were at my flat very quickly. I wasted no time, I could get the bike upstairs later - I had to move Atisha first. I undid her seat-belt, and slid her from her seat out into the streets, her whole body slouched against me. God her arse was so thick, and large my hands had to get a hold of her - I had to. I slid my arms down her back as carefully as I could, so I didn't drop her and I grabbed her fat, thick booty through her jeggings. God it was so thick, and full as my hands squeezed her fat arse like I was rolling dough. She moaned, as I rubbed her massive arse cheeks through the thin legging material. She purred even, Christ she may have been almost unconscious but she was responsive. She perhaps knew in her mind, something sexual was being committed against her - even with all the drugs in her system. My hands couldn't even envelop her entire arse cheeks, they were too thick, and larger than my own palms. God, it was hard to believe, I as a Police Officer was literally sexually assaulting this woman - regardless of her personality, and her criminal record. She was a human being, even if she was the mother of a murdering, gang banger. She may have deserved a long spell in prison, but this wasn't justice or a real punishment for her. My hands quickly moved from her big arse cheeks, to her arse crack. My fingers grazed the big gap between her arse cheeks, as the jeggings had rode up between those two doughy pancakes. The indentation was big, and deep - probably her arse was naturally like this. My hands now gripped the inner sides of her arse cheeks, and in the middle of the darkened street; I pried open her bum cheeks as far as I could. God the brown golden prize lay between those doughy cheeks, and I planned to take advantage of her situation once she came around and woke. I was between carrying her, and dragging her to my front door of my flat, I was on the ground floor of block of flats I lived in. We got inside, and I put her in my computer chair, as I could handcuff her legs and hands to the sides of the seat. I took my job seriously, maybe too much and always had three spare sets of Police issue handcuffs in my flat, just in case I needed them. Once I moved her into the front room or lounge of my flat, I sat her - well literally dropped her on her arse into the chair. I ran into my bedroom to retrieve the spare sets of handcuffs, I only needed two - and proceeded to cuff her right ankle to the legs of the chair, and her left wrist to the arm of the chair. She was quite a sight, slouched in the chair. Her legs were spread obscenely apart in those tight-fitting jeggings she was wearing, and I could see her fat, arse pressed into the seat. Her chest was low, as her whole body sagged - so her breasts were sort of laying on top of her tummy. To some it would look obscene, maybe not as sexy as I saw it but she was a goddess to me at that moment. No wonder Ryan's dad fucked her, and gave her a kid - I would have fucked her, and given her a kid just to have fucked her. I put my bike away, and came back into the lounge where she was sleeping in the chair with a glass of water for when she woke up. I turned on the television and settled on the couch, and watched some episodes of The Wire as I waited for her to wake. I didn't have long to wait and within an hour I could see in the corner of my eyes, in the faint darkness she stirred and began to roll her legs, waking up. "Where am I?" She mumbled in her sexy, sassy voice. "Wake up." I said clearly, and quite loudly as I stood moving over to her in the chair. "Who the fuck are you?" She shouted at me, demanding an answer as her eyes were wide open, in surprise. "I'm the fucking Police, and I caught you driving under the influence of drugs less than a hour ago." I claimed. She was shaking, her eyes darted left to right taking in the entire room - she was frightened and scared. "If you're a fucking cop, why am I not in the Police Station?" She demanded. This was where I had to sell the idea, or she would start screaming and my neighbors would become suspicious. "Listen up you little bitch, you're Ryan Williams mother - Atisha Williams. Now I found enough drugs in the car you were driving, to put you away. Straight to prison, no bail - and you're looking at a long fucking sentence." I said in a growl. She sucked her teeth at me, and gave me a feisty stare. "Hey idiot, you should have arrested me then; now you don't have drugs on me, you've kidnapped me. You're the one who'll be going to prison, you fucking pig." She said defensively. Fuck! She's calling my bluff, before I even made my proposal to her. I had to get tough on her, or she'd have me dead to rights. "It doesn't matter slut, the drugs alone with your record will put you away for a while." I said in response. She simply laughed, and spread her legs wider trying to intimidate me. "Hey arsehole, you've kidnapped me - those drug charges will disappear when I tell them a bent, corrupt pig Cop kidnapped me. They won't want the bad press on them, will they?" She said, with a sarcastic question at the end. I was fucking screwed, I only had one more card to play. It had to work - but it was an idea even I didn't think of, because it seemed so cruel. "Alright, maybe the drugs won't put you away - and you'll just get me arrested for kidnapping you." I said, stating the facts. She enjoyed that, smiling as I noted down everything wrong with what I had just done to her. "But I could always call Ryan's rivals in Southall, the 'Grit Set' and tell them I'll hand Ryan over to them. I'll text Ryan from your phone, telling him you need his help desperately, and to meet him somewhere quiet and perfect for an ambush. There your boy will be butchered, and your only son will die." I said in a flat, emotionless voice. She shivered, I could see it - even her eyes told me she was scared. "You're a fucking Cop, a Pig; you would never do that, you ain't got the balls to do it." She claimed, but her voice was ragged and shaking. I moved closer, and leaned in towards her face - inches from her. "I don't need balls to hand your boy over to them, he'll turn up where I tell him to in the text; and the Grit Set will do the rest." I said coldly, and without emotion. "Fucker." She gasped, and she began to cry, and the tears flowed. I smiled, now it was my fucking time to gloat. "Now you ready to play ball bitch, or do I need to make that call and hand you over to them too?" I said slowly. She dropped her head, and let it hang as she cried, she wasn't struggling against the handcuffs. The tears dropped, and hit her jeggings below. "What do you want from me, you fucker?" She asked me in a deflated, defeated tone. "Any and all information on your boy, and his Crew - what they get up to, and what they are doing." I said simply. She raised her head, her eyes red and wet. "I'm not turning Ryan over to you sons of bitches!" She said in a raised tone. "I'm not asking for him, I'm asking for the Crew - the MDP." I replied. She went quiet, she understood I was willing to settle for Ryan's pals and friends - not him. "If I do, then Ryan is a dead man walking." She said in a sulking voice. "If you don't then he's a dead man right now." I said in an angry tone, and she looked at me dead center. She broke down, and cried harder, her whole body shaking. "The gang then, but not him." She said simply. I smiled, and moved around her chair so I was standing on the other side of her. "Good, then I won't have to make that call to the Grit Set." I said simply. I gently touched her cheek and wiped away some of the moistness from her tears. "What are you doing?" She asked me, looking up at me. "You think I just wanted the MDP?" I asked her, and my hand dropped down to her neck gently. "You got a boyfriend, or a man Atisha?" I asked as I rubbed her neck, and collar bone gently. She pulled away from my touch, angry written across her face. "Don't you fucking dare!" She grunted back at me. I pulled from my pocket a rag, I was going to use as a gag on her if she didn't play along here. But I held it behind my leg, so she couldn't see it. "That phone call is only moments away, unless you play ball bitch." I said in a tone that oozed my lust for her. "This is rape!" She gasped pulling away even further, as far as the chair would allow her. "It ain't rape, if you're a 'Hood Mommy' bitch." I said roughly, moving the rag up from behind my leg to her mouth, and I shoved it in her gob shutting her up. I moved my free hands now to my bottoms, and pulled them off and began to undress in front of her as she tried to shout, scream and spit out the gag in her mouth. I was fully nude within a minute, and she was still no closer to forcing the gag out of her mouth. She was staring at my hard, erect cock now; I wasn't massive, but I was quite average with more than enough thickness and girth to my cock. "Rape is a four-letter word, I'm just getting some justice for the other women you've treated like shit, and those you've used your son's reputation to bully." I said moving closer to her face, aiming my cock towards it. I moved in closer, raising my right leg over her legs so I was standing crossed above her, and I positioned my cock at her rag-filled mouth. "You're gonna get mouth fucked Atisha, just like you've fucked everyone else over as a rough, and tough Hood Mommy." I said in a venomous tone. I moved one hand onto your breasts, and I rubbed and groped her left big breast through her silk, blue vest. She couldn't stop herself, from enjoying it - maybe being such a bitch, she could only get fucked by guys who were equally afraid of her son. Now she was getting used like she should have been, punishment for her attitude. The Job Is On The Streets Ch. 02 I plopped out the rag from her mouth, and she gasped for air; but I didn't give her much time to speak or scream as I forced my cock inside her warm, wet mouth. She gagged immediately, as I hit the back of her throat straight away, and she gurgled back on it. "I thought you liked big cocks, you dress like you love them." I laughed gently as I rocked my hips, sliding my cock in and out of her mouth. She tried to growl, but just like with the gag it wasn't going to get through my thick cock in her mouth. "You're going to give me everything; mind, body, and soul on top of everything your boy is doing with the MDP, and hell if they have anything on the Grit Set I'll take that too." I said raping Atisha's wet, moist mouth. She was humming, or perhaps moaning around my cock as I violated her throat. My hands now both free, I used them to grope both her massive tits through the vest. "If you withhold anything from me, I will find out and I'll throw your boy to the Grit Set or any other rivals that are gunning for his blood." I said, I wanted to frighten her even more; to make her do more for me in fear of losing her son. "Anything about the MDP - drugs, guns, cars; any of it, and you'll go to prison as you hear about your boy being butchered in the newspapers." I told her. She grumbled something, but I wasn't paying attention. I moved my hands to the shoulder straps of her vest, and pulled them off her shoulders. The vest naturally with the straps off, slowly slid down on it's own accord exposing her massive breasts and surprisingly her erect nipples. She was aroused, maybe all she ever wanted was a guy to dominate her, take some of the control from her and make her submissive for once. She wanted to speak, she began to fight against the handcuffs on her wrist but did not hit me with her free hand. I pulled my cock free from her mouth, to hear her out. "You bastard! You better keep your side of the deal, I'm doing this for my son." She wept as she managed to speak. "Oh I'll keep my end of the deal, your boy won't go to prison as long as we both keep a leash on him, and you help me turn in his crew, and if you do everything then I will keep my end of the deal." I said rubbing my cock-head against her wet lips. For some unknown reason, even with her shackled to the chair, and with a rapist's cock at her lips she still licked my cock-head, with her wet, warm tongue. "You like getting raped don't you? It ain't a surprise when you're a mommy to a fucking gang banger is it." I laughed, rubbing my thick mushroom head along her lips. "Fuck you, I ain't got a choice in this do I? It's just a filthy pig's cock in my mouth, you ain't the first to do this to me arsehole." Atisha growled back to me, still licking my shaft. "Yeah, right bitch. Don't pretend that you ain't enjoying this, you're like a bitch in heat." I laughed down at her. She growled once more, and arched her back as she let her head go back slightly, as if like an animal purring. "Just fuck me, you bastard." She purred at me. I had hit a nerve in her, I must have hit a fantasy of hers as she was no longer truly resisting me; she was relishing in a withdrawn fantasy of hers. I smiled, and with the key to my handcuffs, I moved to only remove the handcuffs shackling her ankle to the chair so I could get to her other two holes. "Come on then, pig. Get your big, white cock inside me then. It's what you want, you raping bastard!" She purred me on. I unlocked the handcuff around her ankle, and released it from the chair leg. Without waiting for any motivation I grabbed hold of her thick legs, and spread them wide before moving my hands up her strong, womanly legs to her waist. My fingers found, home and slid inside the waistband of her blue jeggings, and gripping them I began to roll them down her thick, wide hips. There was no turning back now, I had already raped her with my cock in her mouth, even if she was no longer seeing it as that; but it was the fact that I had kidnapped her. There was no going back down, I was a bent, corrupt Cop. Pure and simple. I began to roll them down, and reached her knees now seeing her wearing a pair of womanly, black silk panties, they were in her size. Even with such sexy jeggings on, she had opted for simply black silk knickers tonight. "I didn't know fucking pigs, had big, hard cocks like you. Fucking Feds, I never knew you had something like that down there." Atisha grunted as her jeggings came down. Here in the UK, the gangsters and street gangs called the Police here Feds, in reference to the FBI or what people called FBI agents; the Feds. It was so fucking stupid, and I know Americans will not understand it but it's mainly spoken and used as a term for Police in London. I now had the jeggings passed her knees, and at her ankles. She had one black, leather ankle boots. I unzipped each one and let them drop to the floor, before shoving them aside. "Just hurry up, Fed. Fuck me already." She gasped as I slid the jeggings fully off her legs, and I threw them aside, now just seeing her warm, sexy, shining brown legs. "I'll make you squeal like the pig bitch, soon enough." I growled back at her, moving towards her in the chair. "Men have tried, pig. Try your fucking best." She said with no smile, but a smirk that held contempt for me personally as a Cop. I moved in and between her inner thighs to her panties, her tight, large panties pulled tightly up her arse and crotch as it was. "Big girl, I like your fat arse and tight pussy." I said leaning in between her thighs, as I planted a kiss on the crotch of her big, tight panties. "Fuck off Fed, this isn't about love and shit. Get on with this." She grunted at me, but I could tell she enjoyed the kiss on her womanly organ. I grabbed hold of her hips, pulling her to the edge of the seat so her arse was perched on the edge of the chair, and I rolled down her big panties like they were nothing, throwing them aside to the other side of the room. Now I saw the bitch in all her glory, with her wet, puffy pussy lips, gates to her glory. She had a patch of hair above her slit, it was short but thick slightly. I wanted to dive in, and eat out the slut's wet, snatch but she was already wanting me to just go ahead and fuck her. I positioned my cock-head at her wet, glistening slit and pushed in hard, and quickly - I wasn't here to be gentle with her. I slid in effortlessly as she was so wet, and already wide open probably from other guys fucking her. "Bastard." She gasped at me, as I rammed into her womb as deep as I could with my cock. The thrusting made the chair rock, as I fucked her; it was a sheer surprise the chair didn't snap under all of this. My thrusting made my balls slap her arse, as I began to thrust in and out of her snatch. I must have gone on for almost ten minutes, fucking the shit out of Atisha as if she was a sex-punching bag, made for me and my cock. The chair had moved, during our fucking a few inches towards the television stand. By the ten minute mark, I was already panting, drenched in sweat as I was still banging Atisha into the chair, like dough to a baker. "Fuck me, just cum already. I'm knackered." Atisha gasped, her face covered in sweat and her breathing ragged. I was tired myself, but surprised that even I had more stamina than she could muster for me. I was so close to cumming now, luckily for her - I could feel it, my balls were molten balls of fire at that moment. "Here it comes, you bitch." I grunted as I plopped my cock out of her pussy, and moved towards her face with my hard, erect cock ready to explode. "Not in my face!" She grunted, but I had enough of her voice, and grabbed her silk panties, shoving them into her mouth. "Yes in your mouth, and on your face Atisha." I said satisfactory, as I moved with my cock to her face, and I began to erratically stroke my cock with my hands aiming it at her face. Atisha tried in vain to turn her face away, and even thrashing her legs but with her wrist still handcuffed to the chair she was screwed; regardless of just one wrist handcuffed, she never made a move to remove the gag in her mouth. A few more strokes, and my cock erupted in her face, covering her nose, gagged filled mouth, hair, cheeks and neck in my semen. What little left I had inside me, I moved to slide my cock back inside her pussy and deposit what little I had left inside her. I was now depleted, just gasping for air, and aching all over. I unlocked the handcuff shackling her wrist to the chair, she was free now. "If you want your son to live, and for you to live then you'll keep to this deal. Or I'll tell his rivals in Southall, and he'll die. "I know the fucking deal, Fed. You're all fucking corrupt and bent, but I'll do as you want, as long as I don't hand over my boy to you; just his crew." Atisha said now pulling her wet, sodden panties that were in her mouth back up her legs into place. As she dressed, I did the same and took out my phone to take a picture of her as she dressed, almost naked; I also took her phone number from her phone, to put into my contact list on my own. "When I fucking call you, you better act as if Jesus-fucking-Christ is calling and pick it up eagerly or I'm gonna call the Southall lads myself, so you better not make me wait for you to answer me." I told her, handing her back her phone as she was fully dressed now. "I got it, you bastard." She growled back me, in venom laced words. I smiled contently to myself; Atisha Williams was mine, I owned her - I would make my career from her, and get a regular fuck whenever I wanted one from her. If she ever thought to break off our little arrangement, then one call to the Southall gangs would put her Ryan in harms way, an ambush would see him gone, and she would be a blubbering mess from it. Her only son dead, would break her heart. "Good, now get going. I'll call you in the morning, when to meet me and we'll discuss the rules of our deal, and you better have some information for me." I said in a hard tone, as she made her way towards my front door. "I get it, just call me when you're ready Fed." She said acting like the gangster-mommy she was, and she was soon gone. I made sure the bitch's number was in my phone, and prepared to make a career out of her and her son, from the misery they caused innocent people. Any and all feedback is appreciated, any ideas for the next installment I will read and incorporate into this series. Hope you enjoyed it. Thank you.