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You hadn’t been speeding. Okay, perhaps you had just a little. You didn’t see the cop until their motorcycle pulled out onto the road behind you. You hoped it wouldn’t be for you and your heart sank when they turned on their siren. It was late, you wanted to get home, and a speeding ticket would just add to your exhausting day. Dutifully you pulled over on the side of the road and waited.
The cop pulled behind you, the front light of their bike blinding you a little. You held the steering wheel tightly as you heard the cop turn off their engine and get off the bike. Their boots clicked loudly on the road as they made their way to your window, tapping on it with their baton. You took a deep breath and lowered the window.
Standing there was the cop seemingly towering over you. They wore a black leather motorcycle jacket along with very tight and thick black leather pants tucked into leather knee high boots. They also had a large motorcycle helmet obscuring much of their head and face.
“Do you any idea how fast you were going Sir?” Their voice was feminine but deep.
“I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car.” They had their baton in hand menacingly.
It was dark, there were few cars around. You had certainly heard horror stories but you didn’t seem to have a choice.
“Move it Sir, or I’ll need to place you under arrest.” The cop repeated. A pair of handcuffs dangled from their leather belt.
21 , just start from my prompt.
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