Random Shots

I'm a good girl officer

The sterile, cold lights of the interrogation room flickered slightly as Officer Imee Marcos stood in front of the table. Her gaze was fixed on the woman lounging lazily on the opposite side—Astrella, the infamous troublemaker, a smirk playing on her lips as she toyed with the idea of control. Imee was nothing if not composed, her police officer’s uniform pressed and pristine, every movement precise, calculated. She radiated authority, an unshakable presence that filled the small room with a tension so thick it was almost tangible.

Astrella's eyes followed Imee as she moved, her confidence never faltering. She was used to playing games, used to making others dance to her tune. Her dark hair tumbled messily over her shoulders, and she sat with her legs crossed, the picture of defiance. “You look tense, Officer Marcos,” Astrella purred, leaning forward on the table just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated, her voice laced with amusement. “Sure you can handle me?”

Imee’s expression remained impassive, though a flicker of something darker, something more dangerous, crossed her eyes. She stepped closer, the click of her polished boots echoing in the small space, a sound that seemed to heighten the anticipation hanging between them.

“You think this is a joke, Astrella?” Imee asked, her voice low, authoritative, cutting through the silence with ease.

Astrella uncrossed her legs slowly, her movements deliberate, teasing, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Depends on your definition of fun, Officer.” She made sure the word “Officer” rolled off her tongue with a mix of seduction and mockery, a game of power that she’d played many times before. But this time felt different. Imee felt different.

Imee stepped forward again, now standing directly in front of Astrella. Her eyes narrowed, the air between them thick with tension. “I don’t play games,” she said, her voice sharp yet soft, every syllable dripping with authority. “And I don’t let girls like you walk away without facing the consequences.”

Astrella leaned back slightly, her smile widening. “Is that what this is about? Consequences?” Her voice was sultry, dripping with amusement as her gaze flicked up and down Imee’s form. “What kind of punishment are we talking about?”

Imee’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, her patience running thin. She was done with the banter. In one swift, fluid motion, she grabbed Astrella by the wrist, yanking her up from the chair with a strength and control that caught Astrella off guard. She was spun around before she could react, her body now pressed firmly against the cold surface of the interrogation table. The sudden force made her gasp, though she quickly bit back the sound, refusing to show weakness.

“What the hell—” Astrella started, but her voice faltered as she felt Imee’s body close behind her, the heat of her presence radiating through her back.

“Hands behind your back,” Imee ordered, her voice low and commanding, no longer leaving room for disobedience. “I punish bad girls, real bad”

“Is this how you treat all your suspects, Officer Marcos?”,

Astrella's breath quickened as she complied, though not out of submission—out of curiosity. There was something undeniably thrilling about Imee’s dominance, the way she took control so effortlessly, the way her touch, firm yet deliberate, made Astrella’s skin tingle. Her heart raced as she felt the cool metal of the handcuffs being snapped into place around her wrists.

“You really think you can scare me with this?” Astrella taunted, her voice breathless yet still laced with defiance. “I’ve dealt with worse.”