Date: Sun, 30 Jun 2013 01:31:02 -0400 (EDT)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Good Cop, Bad Cop

			     GOOD COP, BAD COP
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Detectives Stanton and Woodruff looked at the perp through the two-way
mirror glass. "He knows when the next shipment's coming in." said Stanton
as he squinted at the man sitting cockily in the seat. "Fucker knows it,
I'm sure of it." Stanton was taller than Woodruff, but leaner, light
sandy-colored hair above grave gray eyes and a small, solemn mouth set
inside long cheekbones.
     "Whenever that is, it's going to be sooner than we'd like." Woodruff
confirmed. "Sooner we know when and where and how, the better we can move
to intercept it. And stop one shipment in mid-trip and we can roll their
entire organization up like a floorload of bad carpet." Woodruff was
shorter, older, wider and rougher-looking than Stanton. And he was, five
years longer on the force and a grade higher than Stanton. His black hair
was thinning on top, but had a long while to go before it forced him to
play combover with his side-hair, he counterbalanced the dearth of hair on
top of his head with a brushy mustache that was lightly peppered with a few
gray hairs. Prematurely gray, Woodruff was still a good couple of years
this side of forty.
     "So, we play good cop, bad cop with him, right?"
     "Right." Woodruff confirmed. "So get in there and be a good boy with
him." And Woodruff followed his partner into the room. Both men were
solidly built and ready for anything a street punk could throw at them. A
uniform was outside with them, but his role was to be a step-and-fetch it
for the detectives, if he had to get involved with the perp, it would be a
sign of total breakdown in the interrogation process.
     Stanton started by laying on the table the shipment report they'd
gotten from Chicago. "Recognize this?" he asked Gennaro.
     Gennaro Colucci, the perp, glanced down at it only. "Never saw it
before." Gennaro was a typical snide street-level criminal, well-built body
from a prior stint in prison, his hair was as black as Woodruff's but much
thicker, and accompanied by hair on his chest that protruded through and
under the tanktop he wore as his sole article of clothing above his
waist. His jeans were faded blue jeans, and the outline suggested it was
the sole article from waist to ankles, he had a bulge in there that would
make a nice-sized sausage if it had been made of pork.
     "The hell you say!" Stanton's finger stabbed at a point on the
document. "That's your John Hancock right there!"
     Gennaro looked down again. "Yeah, maybe it is. I sign a lot of
shipment orders down at the docks, it's my job."
     "Is it your job to ship drugs in through the port?"
     "Hey, this report says it's home furnishings." Gennaro retorted.
     "So you have seen this report before?"
     "I said it looks like my signature. The report says home furnishings."
     "What if I tell you that we got a guy on the inside on the other end
who tells us that those boxes actually contain blocks of hashish straight
from Afghanistan?"
     "I wouldn't know nothing about that." Gennaro said sullenly. "I just
ship the boxes, I don't look inside them."
     Woodruff stepped in then, leaning on both hands and putting his face
in close to Gennaro's. "You piece of shit, you know damned well what's in
those boxes and..."
     True to his good-cop persona, Stanton put a hand on Woodruff's arm,
stopping him. "Stick with the procedure, Woodruff." he cautioned.
     "Screw the procedure!" Woodruff growled. "We don't stop that shipment
from coming in, it'll be on the streets by the end of next week!"
     "So whaddaya expect me to do about it?" Gennaro protested.
     "You lousy piece of shit...." Woodruff snarled.
     "Hey, Woodruff, take it easy."
     "Yeah, take it easy!" Gennaro added.
     Woodruff started to speak angrily, caught himself, and then said
calmly. "Why don't you go get us a cup of coffee." he said to Stanton. "And
get our...friend one as well, why don't you?"
     "And leave you alone with him?"
     "You won't be gone long." Woodruff countered.
     "Upstairs coffee machine is broken. Have to go down to the lobby, wait
in line with the civilians. Take maybe ten, fifteen minutes."
     "Don't leave me alone with this nut job!" Gennaro objected.
     "Take longer, the longer you wait."
     "Well...all right then." Stanton gave Gennaro a sympathetic look and
went out the door. He didn't go to fetch the coffee, a uniform had taken
off for that as soon as he'd stepped out the door. His job was to pretend
to fetch the coffee, and watch Woodruff do a job on Gennaro.
     As Stanton closed the door, Woodruff advanced on Gennaro. "Your report
is missing a lot of significant data. Like how the shipment is coming in."
     "That's cause it hasn't been decided by the shipper. That gets filled
in after I get the confirmation report...."
     Woodruff slammed the table in front of Gennaro. "You know damned well
how that shipment's coming in! What is it, by boat, air, overland from
Canada? How?"
     "How the fuck would I know."
     "You know, God damn it! Now tell me how it's coming in! How, God damn
it, how?"
     "You're so fucking smart, you tell me!"
     Woodruff hauled off and slapped Gennaro hard, backhanded. Hard enough
to knock Gennaro off his chair and onto the floor.
     Gennaro stumbled to his feet, rubbing his face. "Son of a bitch." he
mumbled. "Police brutality, is what it is."
     Woodruff let him get up and then with rough hands shoved him back into
his seat. "Sit down and shut your smart mouth if it ain't going to tell me
when that shipment's coming in!"
     "I can't tell you what I don't know." Gennaro complained. "I don't
even know why you brought me in, I don't know nothing!"
     Woodruff rumbled, like the growls he'd done before, but this was even
deeper and bear-like, and his hand grabbed Gennaro's head and pushed and
ground his face against Woodruff's crotch. "You don't know nothing, do you?
In prison, a man who doesn't have anything else to offer has to become
someone's bitch, doesn't he, Colucci? Whose bitch were you in prison back
then, Colucci? It was Markeson, wasn't it, the man they call Bulldog?
Didn't you suck his cock every night?"
     Gennaro's face told him very well that was just what he'd done.
     "You want to go back there, Colucci? We still got Markeson, shall we
see you get put back in his cell? You know you're already going back for
ninety days or more for the possession charges, that's a given, with you
breaking probation like you are."
     "No, no!" Gennaro mumbled.
     "Want another roommate? Maybe we can do something about that, talk to
the Warden for you. But you got to give us something. What can you give us,
to save you from Markeson's hot cock down your throat?"
     "I don't know nothing." Gennaro insisted.
     "All right, then, you'll be back to sucking Markeson's dick in no
time, then. Might as well give you a chance to get back in practice, then,
shouldn't we?"
     Gennaro goggled at Woodruff as the gruff, mean-faced detective undid
his fly and took out his manmeat. "This ought to be about the same size as
Markeson's, wouldn't you say? I hear he's hung about like this." Woodruff
said, as he waggled his stiffening cock at Gennaro. "I got nine inches when
it's full up, why don't you try it on, just for old times' sake?"
     Gennaro whined and he looked up at Woodruff. He knew damned well that
he was indeed bound back to prison and could well end up back in Markeson's
cell as promised. "You'll see I get a different cell block? Not just a
different cell, but a different block?"
     "Markeson's in Cell Block C. I could see they put you in A if you
like. Other side of the compound and they exercise at different times of
day, even. I could see they put you in A...maybe."
     Gennaro looked up at Woodruff's hard eyes like a puppy begging for a
treat, then down and he lunged at Woodruff's prong and slurped it down hard
and fast. Woodruff didn't give him a chance to get used to the cock, he
grabbed Gennaro's head and began to slam in and out of Gennaro in a
hurry. Gennaro grunted, choked, but held on.
     "Yeah, just like in prison, isn't it?" Woodruff sneered at
Gennaro. "You'll get it like this every night if you don't talk. You talk,
and maybe we can get your time reduced, maybe a minimum security prison
instead of the big house, maybe?"
     The uniformed cop had brought Stanton the coffee (from the machine
down the hall, the myth of the broken coffee machine was a standard dodge)
and caught Stanton rubbing his crotch as he watched the action inside. The
cop turned his own head and his gasp jerked Stanton back to his duty.
     "Here's the coffee, sir."
     "About damned time." Stanton grunted and took the coffee. The cop was
eyeing the bulge in Stanton's trousers as he did so. "Maybe you can help
out with it next time, Peters."
     "Uh, yes, sir." the cop blushed as Stanton intended, and turned
away. Grinning, Stanton turned and went back into the interview room.
     Inside, he pretended to be shocked. Woodruff was grunting as he
stuffed his cock down Gennaro's throat, and Gennaro was choking and moaning
as he nursed the hard cop rod. "Woodruff, God damn it, what the fuck are
you doing?"
     "Giving this punk a taste of prison life." Woodruff huffed as he
rammed his hips at Gennaro's face.
     "We only got this bastard on simple possession and breaking
probation. He lays on a story about being forced to suck your cock on the
judge and he's going to walk completely!"
     "And how's the judge going to believe a lying shit like him?"
     "He will if I back him up on it." Stanton said grimly. "Now put the
monster away and we'll use standard police procedures."
     "Fuck, you expect me to stop now?" grunted Woodruff, but he pulled
away and let his saliva-slimy dong slap down on his trousers. "Just give me
another five minutes."
     "He's here to talk, which he can't do with your cock in his throat."
     "Ahhh!" Woodruff growled and walked out of the interview room,
presumably to find a bathroom and jerk the rest of the way off. In fact, he
went back outside and to the other side of the two-way mirror.
     There, the uniformed cop stared at his slime-coated prod in wide-eyed
wonder. "You enjoy the show, Peters?"
     "Uh, I guess so, sir." the cop told him. "But is this supposed to make
him talk?"
     "Wait'll you see the rest of it." Woodruff said. Inside, Stanton was
consoling the desolate Gennaro, who was whimpering about going back to the
slammer. Stanton was being Gennaro's friend, murmuring soft words of
consolation, about the advantages of police protection even for convicted
criminals, how possession wasn't anything, how they didn't want small fry
like Gennaro in this bust, they wanted the big guys and would be glad to
make deals with small-time crooks like Gennaro to get the big guys. Gennaro
could come out of this with a new lease on life, a chance to start his own
business, legitimate this time, and settle down to the life he'd always
really wanted, just put his trust in the police....
     And Gennaro was taking the bait, even to the point when Stanton's lips
went onto Gennaro's like a lover's. Kissing him hard.
     "Wonder if Stanton likes the taste of my cock on Colucci's tongue."
chuckled Woodruff.
     He looked over at Peters and said, "Peters, you're missing the show,
looking where you are."
     "If you say so, sir." Peters was looking down at Woodruff's cock.
     "Like what you see?"
     "Why haven't you put it back in your pants, sir?" Peters said in lieu
of answering.
     "I got to be ready to go back in there once Stanton gets Colucci
going." Woodruff said. "Need to keep the old jackhammer primed and ready to
start ramming, you know what I mean."
     "I think it's getting soft, in that case, sir."
     "A little." Woodruff said. Then, with just the smallest pause, he
continued. "You got any ideas what I can do about that?"
     Peters looked at Woodruff's face, then down, and then the slim young
cop, fresh-faced and downy-cheeked, fresh out of police academy, a rookie
cop, went onto his knees and scarfed down Woodruff's prod like a hungry dog
tackles a steak. Woodruff relished the young hot lips on his cock and
turned his head to watch the proceedings.
     True to form, Stanton was showing Gennaro that all cops weren't so
bad. Gennaro had his pants down and with Stanton on the table in front of
him, Gennaro was sliding his cock into Woodruff's partner's ass. Yep,
Stanton was right on schedule in there. Another five minutes or less ought
to do it. Give Gennaro a chance to really get busy fucking before he went
back in.
     "Yeah, the police can be your friends, Colucci." Stanton was telling
Gennaro. "You give us when and where the shipment is coming in and we can
show you all kinds of gratitude."
     "Yeah, gratitude."
     "You're going to need police protection if you agree to testify. I can
arrange to be assigned to protect you. You would spend the next several
months, while the trial is ongoing, under my personal protection and care,
there to take care of your every need. Ah-ah-ah, ahhhhh!" Gennaro's prong
had just penetrated Stanton's ass.
     "Smooth as butter." murmured Gennaro. "Nice and tight, but
smooth. You're a real cock-man, aren't you?"
     "I love it when they're big and thick like yours." Stanton
murmured. "Feels so good, sliding in and out. Come on, start sliding it in
and out, and while you're at it, how is the shipment coming in? By air,
isn't it, coming in by air?"
     "Naw, by boat." Gennaro grunted. "Airport, too many people
watching. The docks, though, they only spot-check and it's easy enough to
keep an eye on the one box that has the goods, step in if the inspector
gets close to it and buy him off. Some won't buy off, those they take care
of, like that young fellow three months ago."
     "Yeah, who did him in?" Stanton murmured. "We've been wondering."
     "Not sure. Couple of the Bonatelli gang's henchmen. They're the ones
who take care of the ones stupid enough not to take the money."
     "Yeah, we figured that. Fuck me faster, man, faster!" Stanton's hands
clutched at Gennaro's buttocks and pulled the hairy cheeks inwards, pushing
Gennaro's hips all the way up against his own buttocks and moaned.
Outside, Woodruff judged the moment was ready. He carefully detached those
lively, rosy young cop lips from his prong and panted, "Enough. I got to
get back in there. Thanks for the warm-up, Peters."
     "Thank you, sir." Peters wiped his lips with the back of his hand and
watched as Woodruff chugged back into the interview room.
     Inside, Woodruff entered silently as he could (he was panting pretty
hard, that pretty young cop had really been going to town on him) and
stepped all the way up to behind Gennaro before he said a single word. "I
see you're getting to know the perp personally, Stanton."
     "Someone...had to make it...up to him...for what you...did!" gasped
out Stanton. "He's told us it's coming in by boat."
     "Yeah, but when?" asked Woodruff.
     "I ain't...got that...far!"
     "Then let's try to persuade him to give." Woodruff grunted and before
Gennaro could realize what was about to happen and pull away, he stepped up
and thrust Gennaro's upper body down onto Stanton, who caught hold of him
and held him tight. And Woodruff was glad Peter's mouth had been so busy on
him, because when he got his prick up to that butthole and pushed, it was
damned tight!
     "Ah, ah, don't do it, don't do it!" groaned Gennaro. "I ain't never
done it before!"
     "You mean Markeson never pronged you up the butt?"
     "He was a mouth man. I only had to suck him. Please, don't fuck me,
please!"
     "So tell us when the shipment's coming in, and where."
     "I don't know, I....AH-GAH!" That was when Woodruff's cock plowed into
those snowy white, hair-dappled buttocks. Hairy hips slammed into hairy
buttocks and Gennaro raised up his head and howled like a wolf at the moon.
     "It's okay, Colucci, it's okay." Stanton crooned to his erstwhile
lover. "You see how much I love it, it can be the same for you, just let it
into you and let it please you, let me please you, come on, move your hips
and we'll make it good for you, too, you'll see, you'll see."
     Gennaro didn't seem convinced, but he was in no position to protest,
and he began to move, and as he did, Stanton flexed his buttocks, milked at
the fleshy invader in his bowels. And Gennaro slowly stopped moaning in
pain and his breaths became punctuated with passion instead of pain.
     The three moved harder and faster and as they did, Woodruff grunted,
"Now, you shit, tell us when the shipment's coming in, tell me, or I'll get
you assigned to the toughest, meanest damned black stud in there, you'll be
rammed two dozen times a night by a dozen of the roughest black men you
ever saw, and none of them likes the whites one damned bit. When is it
coming in, when?"
     "Tell him, tell him." soothed Stanton. "Tell him and he'll get it over
with. Get you a nice cell and a nice place."
     "When is it coming in. When, when, when?"
     "Tell him, tell him, tell him."
     "When, when, when?"
     "Tell, tell, tell."
     "This Thursday night. About ten o'clock. Night shift is slacker about
inspections." Gennaro gasped out.
     "Which dock, which ship?"
     "Berth 82, East Dock."
     "Good job, Colucci, good job." Woodruff panted. "Now it's time for
your present and here it comes." He sped up briefly and his cock exploded
in Gennaro's ass. "AH-AH-AH-AH-GAH, AH!"
     Gennaro's eyes opened wide as the hot flood rushed into him and his
face flushed red and hot. Stanton realized what was happening and milked at
his cock with his ass muscles rapidly and Gennaro moaned and thrust into
Stanton and his prick ejaculated fiercely into Stanton's ass.
     Stanton sighed in relief, another job well done, and his cock accepted
the relief as permission and he sprayed Gennaro and himself liberally with
his own spunk.
     The three men moaned together briefly, then Woodruff concluded, then
Gennaro and finally Stanton ebbed into silence. By then, Woodruff was
stuffing his spent cock back into his pants.
     "We'll need you to write all that out for us, Colucci..." he was
saying and then he heard a noise from outside the interview
room. "Ah-ah-ah-ah!" came the young voice.
     He went out to see Peters, instead of standing to near-attention and
readiness, lying on the single table the outside room boasted, hot young
white spunk covering his dark uniform liberally. The fresh young face was
flushed with spent orgasm and sweaty. "Oh, damn, that was just so hot."
Peters breathed.
     "You want to make detective, you'll have to learn to control yourself
better than that."
     Woodruff opined.
     "Yes, sir, sorry, sir." Peters stood up and shamefacedly crammed a
surprisingly long white dong back into his uniform trousers.
     Stanton came out then. "He's agreed to testify. Better call in the
recorder, we're going to have a long afternoon getting down everything he
knows. Be lucky to get out of here by ten o'clock at night."
     "We'll be busier than that after." Woodruff said. "Young Peters here
needs some education about our interrogation techniques. You and me should
take him home with us and teach him how to play good cop/bad cop for
himself."
     "You think you're up to it?" Stanton asked the young officer.
     "Yes, sir, that is, I hope so, sir." Peters said eagerly.
     "We'll just have to grill you every night until you're perfect in the
technique." Woodruff said. "Now let's get that recorder in here and finish
up with this interrogation. Tomorrow, we'll bring in a few of Bonatelli's
boys and see what our good cop, bad cop routine does with them."
     "A policeman's job is never done." Stanton agreed as they went out.
"But it is very satisfying work."

				  THE END
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