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"Clawing For Information" (Part One)

Luv2Tickle69

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*the following fictional tale is assuredly a slight variation on a theme that has probably been explored on numerous occasions....you'll kindly forgive the author for revisiting....*


"Shit!!!" Laura snapped as she slammed the phone down on the receiver. Another potential lead ended up leading to nothing and nowhere. She placed her elbows upon her desk and rested her forehead into her hands, massaging her temples with her thumbs. A couple of gentle, but audible knocks were then heard on the jamb of her office door.

...."...everything alright, partner?" Laura looked up wearily and saw Adam Tilse....who graduated with her from the police academy some 23 years ago, and was her partner for many years they shared on the beat. She'd beaten him out for the promotion to Sergeant a couple of years ago, and never once did he ever seem despondent. She still prioritized his knowledge and input and liked that he still called her 'partner.' Tilse himself had it much easier these days as well....able to dispatch any number of subordinates at will to investigate and report as needed, and yet..never afraid himself to 'get his hands dirty.'

...."Ahhh...." Laura exulted with a disgusted tone. "That lead we were looking into...based on that one witness we spoke to last week?" She gave a thumbs down. Tilse tsked his tongue and shook his head slightly.

....."...We'll get 'em yet, " he concluded with his trademark wink.

..... yeah.... Laura thought. But when?!

Seven months ago, Tim Werner; an officer in Laura's division who'd only been into it for a little less than a couple of years, took two shots in his left shoulder during a gunfight that had occurred around 2:30am. Werner, along with his 12 year partner Jim Wheaton and two additional veteran officers were looking into suspicious activity that was happening near what had been an abandoned warehouse. When the officers closed in, drew their weapons and commanded the five or six men they'd spotted to cease everything and raise their hands, the men proceeded to draw their OWN weapons, and opened fire. The gunfight lasted all of three or four minutes, but the sure-fire marksmanship of the gunmen seriously downed Werner, and one of the other officers who'd accompanied Werner and Wheaton suffered a graze along his upper right thigh. The gunmen sped off in both vehicles that were present alongside the warehouse, and somehow managed to elude discovery even after Wheaton expediently called in the style of vehicles and their most immediate direction of travel from where the officers found them, as well as ambulatory assistance for his partner and the other injured officer. What had really gotten Laura's ire, was that Werner was all of 25 years old....a newlywed, and his wife; a sweet, shy lady named Desiree was also 6 months pregnant with their first child. As the facts of that early morning's activities became divined, Laura came to realize that these gunmen weren't just some random lucky shots up to no good. The inability to locate any of these men, along with finding the warehouse the gunmen had some kind of business with was completely empty were clear indications that this was something very serious. Even as the weeks and months ticked by....Laura could STILL hear the agonized cries of Desiree she'd wailed into the telephone when Laura called her to inform her that Tim had suffered injuries in a gunfight. The haunting quality of those wails only served to fuel Laura's quest to find the sons-of-bitches guilty for causing such distress. In more recent weeks, Laura began holding down 15, 16 hour days....hitting the streets herself with Tilse by her side, and commandeering other investigators and officers to various areas throughout the city to glean ANYTHING possible. It seemed the more they did, however...the less they came away with.

....1am came and went as uneventfully as every other hour before. Laura's desk was now relatively littered with a good 6 previous hours of paperwork, half-eaten Chinese food left in the platter it arrived in, and her coffee mug...which had been filled and emptied some 9 times. In spite of that, the clearer right corner of her desk were now a temporary roost for her stockinged feet, which had had enough of the shoes they'd been in for better than 15 hours. She had been reading a random record file of a perp who'd been arrested earlier that evening for flashing the public on a subway train (which would make his third arrest in as many months for the same offense). She'd nodded off, given her fatigue; as well as the inane and very uninvolved nature of the case of this flasher (who would probably be arraigned and released to a mental facility anyway), which mattered so little compared to what Laura's aim had been for some seven months. At 1:33am, Hank Lansing; an undercover investigator whose shift began at 9pm (when Tilse went home), peeked his head in and gave a furtive call....

......"Sarge?" Laura hadn't moved a muscle. Her breathing was pretty deep by now, and Hank simply smirked a little and shook his head. He'd seen a lot of her in here at these odd hours, and knew why (he'd even gone out and researched possible leads and would-be witness accounts of the gunmen's vehicles...none of which were very conclusive). Hank casually made his way in toward Laura's desk closest to where her feet; crossed at the ankles, right foot over left--were peacefully perched. He gently pinched and wiggled the big toe on Laura's right foot.

...."Sarge?" Still nothing. He then did something he was sure might awaken her. At a summer barbecue/pool party officer Wheaton had thrown a couple of years ago, Hank had playfully grabbed and tickled Laura's foot as she idly floated by him on a pool raft. She'd let out a shriek of surprise, followed quickly by rapid-fire giggles and laughs. Now at her desk, Hank gently wiggled the tip of his finger along the stockinged ball of Laura's right foot. Laura's toes almost immediately fanned and flexed, and she jumped slightly in her seat as she came to.

"....uhh?! Whaa--...don' do that....." she managed, shifting herself in her seat, and putting her feet upon the floor.

...."Sarge," Hank called. "It's almost a quarter of two of the A.M. You need to go home....you need to sleep in your own bed."

Laura groaned. She knew Hank was right...."...but what if a call comes in, Hank? I hafta be here," she said. "I don't wanna miss a single step."

"Fatigued as you are," Hank retorted. "You're likely to miss a FEW steps. Go...home.....if anything happens by or before 8am, you'll get called. Rest assured."

With a sigh of equal parts dejection and relief, Laura scooped her shoes up, rose slowly from her chair, offered Hank a wan grin and a couple of gentle taps on his left shoulder, grabbed her purse from the coat hook by her door, and bade everyone a good-night. She paused and looked back at Hank....

"....you'll call....if something happens..right?"

Hank bowed slightly inward for emphasis as he annunciated, "Ye-esss.....post haste. Go home!"

Another wan grin and a nod of appoval, and Laura made her way down the steps leading to the exit door into the fresh, cool, well-before-dawn night air.


Laura awoke with a shot to the sound of her phone. She hissed a venomous "Shhi-i-it!" as she saw the time on her alarm clock said 9:39am....she was sure why the phone was ringing. She picked up the receiver quickly.

"...Hullo...yeah...I just woke up."

"Sarge!" It was Tilse. "Hank gave me the low-down, and I would've let you sleep 'til noon, but you need to get in here....we picked someone up fifteen minutes ago."

Laura bounded out of her bed and quickly fished out a pair of slacks and a blouse.

"Talk to me as I dress!! What happened!?"

Tilse then proceeded to tell her that police had engaged in a high-speed pursuit of a car that resembled the description of one of the vehicles that had sped away from the abandoned warehouse on that fateful night seven months ago. The driver of the car, saw the police car behind him, and missed a red light from all the perfunctory glances he gave his mirrors. The police engaged their lights and a warning 'WHOOP', which only served to prompt the driver to speed away. A 19 minute chase ensued, stopped only by an officer who was clever enough to come in across town from the north, which was where the chase was heading. The rear of the officer's car that made the clever cut off was hit considerably hard, but neither the officer nor the perp were hurt. The perp's airbag had in fact deployed. The perp had put up a significant fight while two officers that arrived first tried to detain him. As more officers arrived with weapons drawn, the fight minimized, and soon after, the cuffs were upon him and he was placed into a squad car. A search of the perp's vehicle found not only an attache case with some incriminating paperwork inside, but under the driver seat was a 9mm gun. It just so happened that officer Werner's shoulder injuries were caused by 2 9mm bullets. A rather common gun among the criminally minded, but as investigators pawed and researched the paperwork from within the attache case, they quickly learned that this individual had indeed been up to some seriously illegal activity....notably among them, weapon smuggling and distribution. Even more interesting, was the find of cocaine that the perp had in his back pocket; arguably the very source of his adrenalized fight he'd given the officers.

Laura arrived at the precinct less than fifteen minutes later. Tilse and two of the arresting officers briefed her further upon her entry. Search warrants had already been obtained and signed to investigate three addresses that had been printed upon the paperwork that was found in the perp's attache case. By then, no further arrests had been made, and two of the addresses turned up cases that contained handguns and others with ammunition. The perp was currently detained in one of the interrogation rooms....Tilse explained further,

...."you'll see we had to shackle his wrists behind him. He put up such a struggle and fight upon getting him out of the car. Even two full hits of pepper spray didn't weaken him much."

Laura nodded, and began reviewing the fresh paperwork before her. With all that morning's events, she was sure they were onto something. Information was coming incrementally, but steadily. She decided she would need to talk to this perp......see if she could find something out.
She left her office and went past the desks of some of the other officers wordlessly, making her way to the hall leading to the interrogation rooms. She saw the door of the room the perp was waiting in, then went next door to the observation room (where officers and usually a D.A. will watch the interrogation). She opened that door, and saw no one inside. She furtively looked around, and closed the door. She reached for the keys looped onto the belt loop of her slacks, and found the key that would lock that door. Once locked, she made her way back to the interrogation room door, opened it, and went inside....locking the door behind her......

.....part two soon to come!!!! :evilha:
 
Just like out of a scene of NYPD (almost) Very good beginning. Look foward to seeing how the story plays out.
 
"Clawing For Information" Part Two

......Laura looked upon the perp, who was sitting at the table. As Tilse had told her, the perp's hands were cuffed and behind the chair. The pepper spray shots had made the perp's eyes appear red and a bit puffy. He still looked agitated, but Laura was undaunted.

...."I know you've been read your rights," Laura stated calmly. "I'm here to see if you might wish to explain what some of this might mean, and what your involvement in this is." She placed some of the paperwork that was in the perp's attache case before him, and sat in the chair across from the perp. The perp barely even acknowledged the paperwork...keeping his gaze instead on Laura's own eyes.

....."Nobody on this force," the perp began, "is even remotely ready to combat or contend with the people that are behind this." The perp sneered a little. Laura then pulled from another folder a photo that was taken of officer Tim Werner....the officer who'd been shot twice in the shoulder seven months ago and placed it in front of the perp. The perp gave this offering a more focused look.

...."Nobody....among your people," Laura retorted, "is even remotely ready for the legal wrath I'm prepared to unleash in my quest to find the perp responsible for my fellow officer's injuries and the hell it caused some seven months ago. Might he look familiar to you?"

The perp only looked up from the photo with his eyes into Laura's. "ALL pigs look alike to me."

Laura rose from her seat, "Oh really? Interesting....all PERPS look alike to me.....helpless...desperate....wanting to help us along, however inwardly.." Laura turned and walked to the wall to her left, where sat a metal box, resembling a foot locker. She used another key to open the box and pulled out two additional shackles. At the end of each shackle, were two large loops that appeared more designed for ankle restraint. She came back to the table, and fastened the opposite ends of the shackles to the restraint brackets that were on the table (an additional option for restraint, if needed). She then approached the perp.

"See.....I think you know everything I need to know.....about these ammo runs....the people behind it, because you don't strike me as a forerunner....a leader.....and I think you had something to do with my officer being downed; perhaps even knowing who the trigger-man was." Laura couldn't help but notice she was feeling a strange attraction to this perp, even for as much as he repulsed her, he wasn't one of your typically rough looking, harsh-on-the-eyes criminals. Even in spite of his reddened, puffy eyes, Laura found herself wondering what would've taken an otherwise becoming man and made him 'go to bat' for the bad guys. Laura then looked down because she swore she saw something on the perps right arm. She went around and noticed what looked like a UPC bar code symbol. She bent down, and realized that's just what it was....a UPC symbol, emblazoned tattoo-like just inches past his wrist. She saw a letter and number combination code beneath the bars.

...."L..2.T..6..9," Laura read allowed. "Never knew a perp with a serial number. Or...is this some kind of secretive I.D. code?" The perp said nothing, but merely began to struggle a little where he sat. Laura stood back up about halfway, and then grabbed the perp's ankles...hoisting his feet onto the table, which forced the chair to lean back a little.

...."HEY!!!" The perp shouted. "What the hell are you doing!!??" Laura made short work of unlocking the shackle loops, and placing them snugly around the perp's ankles.

...."Like I said....most perps are rather desperate upon their arrest. They inwardly know the shit they're in, and really....truu-uuly desire to help us, in order to reduce their potential sentence, or...the charges they themselves face. And...I'm from the school of thought that if I can help influence that help along without worrying about abject brutality, then I've done my part on behalf of society." As Laura finished her statement, she'd already had the perp's shoes off and onto the floor. She now began removing his socks as the perp looked on incredulously...not knowing just what to make of all this! With his feet now bare, Laura looked upon them and found a renewed feeling of unexplained wanderlust. Nobody knew, least of all this perp that she had in a now very uncompromising situation, that she had a very burning interest in men with nice feet.....and if those nice feet were ticklish; for Laura, that was the mother of all bonuses.

The perp was becoming more and more nervous. "I think I'll see my lawyaaaaaaaaaaAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGGHH!!!!!" The perp's statement was cut off severely as Laura's long and skillful fingernails began skritching and gliding up and down the soles of his feet. Even for all his agitation, nervousness and whatever rage he'd conjured during the last couple of hours, he was now reduced to a considerably helpless state of hysterical laughter.

Laura was grinning slightly as she watched her own fingers commit their purposeful (and even lustful) energy.

......such NICE feet too!!!! Laura thought. ....double the shame that he bats for the bad guys!

Her nails skittered and spider-tickled all over the balls of the perp's feet, and quickly raked in downward strokes making the perp howl and bellow gales of intense laughter.

..."I could make all this stop you know," Laura said with a slight teasing tone in her voice. Her nails now raking side to side along the balls of his feet with firm, quick passes. "All you'd have to do is tell me what this operation is all about......who's leading the way, and whether you, or anyone else in this organization had ANYTHING to do with the injury to my officer." Laura's fingernails were non-stop.....for all the uncontrollable fits of laughter the perp was filling the interoggation room with, she wasn't about to go easy on him. Besides, a little part of her was privately enjoying this...she hadn't exacted such a tickling like this on the feet of a man for quite some time. She HAD wanted to get Hank Lansing back for the mini-attack he put to her foot in the pool at officer Wheaton's barebecue party a couple of years ago....but not even so much for 'get even's' sake, in as much as for the purpose of displaying a move of affection that Hank would certainly pick up on....since he'd admitted TO her later that same afternoon that he liked having his feet touched and played with. Why Laura never took him up on it and put his feet to the test eluded her to this very day. But...she would have her time. There had been way too many furtive glances between her and Hank, as well as subtle innuendo. Even for all the attention that 'sexual harrassment' on the work force had gotten in recent years, as well as the questionable ethic of whether co-workers should get involved romantically, Laura found that in Hank's case, neither situation mattered to her very much.....at all.

She sobered up a moment and saw that some 15 minutes had passed since she began engaging this perp's bare feet with her fingernails.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Laura asked as she sat more comfortably on the table. Her nails still skittering about effortlessly along the soles of his feet. She then brought her nails around to the tops of his feet and scrambled them lightly and gently about, which invited fresh howls and shrieks of ticklish torment from the perp.

"YOOOOUU DOOO-HOO-HO-HO-HOON'T UUHHHNNDERSTAAA-HAHAHAHAAAAND!!!!!" The perp finally expelled. "IF I TALK, THEY'LL KI-HI-HI-HI-HI-LLLL MEE-HEEHEEEE!!!!!"

Laura tilted her head a little and gave a matter-of-factly look right back to the perp. She was now very quickly and rather harshly spider-tickling the entirety of his bare soles. The perp's mouth was full drawn and open. He'd been bucking about helplessly in his bound situation for almost 20 straight minutes. Laura also noticed the perp had developed a very formidable erection....the front of his pants were considerably pup-tented. She felt that maybe she should squelch that little lascivious demon inside of her that relished this opportunity to try and divine other relevant information.

"Ummm.......if you DON'T talk to me.....all this tickling I'm doing might kill you first! But..." Laura then stopped her ten-finger onslaught for a moment. "That would be too easy and too merciful of me. Having said that, are you prepared to make a statement?"

The perp took a few minutes to recover. His face was now FULLY red, and beaded with sweat. His breathing was very quick, his feet limply sat along their outer edges upon the table. Slight pink-red streaks could be seen upon his soles where Laura's nails had exacted their firmer strokes. The perp was the picture of pure exhaustion. The only part of him that displayed the very contrary was his still-flagpole-rigid erection....which made the front of his pants stick out ever so prominently.

"....I....can't!" The perp finally panted. "This organ..ization....is like...the frickin' mob! I'd be...no good...to you..dead!"

Laura, who'd folded her arms in front of her as she'd asked for a statement, now put her arms back down as she brought her fingers back toward his feet.

"....well.....I have ten mob members of my own!" she said indignantly, as she began working her nails all over the perp's bare feet again. The perp began wailing and laughing wearily. "And THIS 'family' has MORE than enough influence and energy to make you an offer you can't refuse. But the more you do....the more this 'family' goes to work!" Laura unleashed a tickling frenzy she'd never put to any man's feet before. Most times, she knew she could reduce a man to hysterics by simply straddling his lower legs and gently spider tickling his bare feet for however long she desired. Now, she was practically clawing away at the perp's feet in a manner one would certainly deem quite cruel, were they to witness her in action. In Laura's mind's-eye, even ravenous lions didn't claw away at the flesh of their kill quite the way she was clawing and raking her nails all over this perp's feet. Moreover, she felt her wanderlust giving way to a more vengeful feeling. In her head, she could still hear Werner's wife Desiree wailing into the receiver of the phone in spite of Laura's assurances that Werner survived and was getting the best treatment. The haunting wails resonated now just as prominently as the screeches, wails and howling laughter the perp had been exploding. Laura then hopped off the table and proceeded to furiously tickle the perp along his ribcage. She then looked down toward the perp's pup-tent in his pants. She then noticed there was a growing wet stain right where the tip of his penis would be. And the wet spot kept growing!!! She never would've suspected her tickling someone would incur THAT!! She felt a renewed flush feeling creep its way back...but she knew full well she had to keep it to business....

"I could make this so much easier on you," Laura managed to say in a strangely calm voice. "I could get the D.A to plead for a lighter sentence, because you helped us, and I could also enlist the Witness Protection Program to designate you a new identity while in prison, as well as when you're released..." her fingers wriggled about madly along his midsection. "But I can't help you one measly little bit if you don't promise to give me EXACTLY wha--...."

"OK!! OK!!!! OKAAAY!!!!!" The perp finally exulted with pained and exhausted wails. Laura stopped at once, keeping her hands by her sides.

...."I'll talk...." the perp croaked. "I'll tell you everything....just.......no more!" It was now 11:53 am. She'd been tickling this perp since 11:14am!

~~~~EPILOGUE~~~~

Laura arose from the spectator bench just after the judge's gavel banged. She was satisfied. The perp had indeed relented and gave up names, facts, dates, times....any and all information the squad knew would cinch the case. None of the perp's co-horts, leaders, or otherwise seemed any the wiser as to how they ended up with their collective goose cooked. The perp was swiftly taken away and would serve a sentence of 7-10 years. He'd be out in 5 if he kept up appearances and remained a model prisoner.

TWO MONTHS LATER~~~
Laura emerged from the bathroom back toward her living room. She saw he'd made himself rather comfortable on her sofa. His socks were now off, and his ankles were crossed, heel of his right foot nestled comfortably on the arm of the sofa. He almost looked fully asleep! She made her way toward him, smiling more and more as she got closer. She knelt by the sofa, close to his feet, and very slowly and gently began gliding the tips of her index fingers up and down the large and wide expanse of his bare soles. His toes then flexed as he giggled and snickered immediately, inviting Laura to gently glide her nails along his arches and up along the balls of his feet which prompted more in the way of laughter.

"Hank.....you should know better than to leave these feet so accessible to me," Laura teased, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Hank Lansing simply giggled and laughed more, giving Laura full reign and license...knowing full well what they'd both be up to in a short while..... ;)

Oh yes......Tim Werner rejoined his fellow officers later that summer, his shoulder fully recovered. By October of that next year, he'd received another medal for bravery, and a commendation by the mayor on the following February. He and Desiree had had a healthy baby girl....they named her Faith.
 
And they all lived happily ever after. Glad to see she got her man! (in more ways than one) ;) :Kiss1:
 
Great story

Made my feet tingle and want to shoot cops in the shoulder. Just kidding about shooting cops.

Wow they still tingle!!!
 
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