Police Officer Scott Creager is forced to strip and endure a humiliating inspection after being accused of masturbating in a gym lockerroom in this hot story from new author Luther5. Masterfully illustrated by Amalaric! Part 1.

interrogation-room-1

Interrogation Room C - Part 1
by Luther5
Art by Amalaric
Series: Interrogation Room C

Police Chief Connors had a meeting with the mayor in exactly one hour, and, as most meetings with the mayor, he wasn't looking forward to it.  Police chiefs often clashed with their bosses, nothing new about that.  But this meeting's agenda had something raw and personal on the table for both men,  Officer Scott Creager.

A three-year veteran of the department, Creager, at 27 years old, was in every sense of the word a cop's cop.  Following in both the footsteps of his father and grandfather, he luxuriated in the notion that being a policeman was in his blood, in his very DNA for that matter, so much so that he never once deviated from his dream that he would some day join the force. 
         
Athletic, intelligent, confident, sometimes too confident, perhaps, in his natural-born abilities, Creager led by example without even knowing it.  Almost every officer in the department, for example, had attended his wedding about a year ago, the bachelor party itself going down in the books as a party to end all parties.  After the festivities had finally ended, a very inebriated Creager was escorted back to the station house wearing only his watch.  Everything else he had initially been wearing had been expertly removed by a pair of very sharp surgical scissors a fellow officer had remembered to bring with him, just in case the guest of honor failed to undress under his own steam.  About seven men had to hold down a very combative Creager as the scissors removed every stitch of his clothing.  A very naked Office Creager had been read his Miranda Rights, cuffed, then returned to Headquarters, all in good fun, of course.  Eventually to the amusement of his friends,  Creager had also been put "on display" for a half hour or so in the locker room, tied to one of the benches outside the showers.  Everyone who passed the naked officer patted him on the head, tweaked a nipple, tugged at his thick public bush, and so forth.  All the nude cop could do was utter a, "Thanks, guys!"  After finally being untied, someone thoughtfully provided him a t-shirt and a pair of running shorts so that his trip home would be a little easier.

interrogation-room-2   
         
Now with a child on the way, Scott took excessive pride in serving as an officer and knew, if he continued to do a good job, his police career would support him and his family for years to come.  And a promotion to sergeant was on the horizon if all went well.
         
Chief Connors felt uneasy as he looked at the notes on his desk, the ones he had prepared specifically for his meeting with the mayor. The papers before him summarized page 26 of the police manual, stating the manner in which police officers should be treated when accused of a crime.  The manual clearly indicated that officers who were the subjects of internal investigations may be compelled to submit to various physical tests or procedures to gather evidence.  The manual further stated that no person on the force had the privilege to refuse to submit to an examination for the purpose of discovering or recording his corporal features and other identifying characteristics of his physical or mental conditions.  Evidence that departments had the right to obtain, or procedures that were permissable to use to obtain evidence, included breath samples, blood samples, buccal swabs, voice recordings, participation in a lineup, handwriting samples, hair and saliva samples, urine specimens, videotaping, and field sobriety tests.  Officers refusing to perform or participate in  court-ordered physical tests could be subject to a contempt-of-court sanction for failure to comply with the order.  Pretty clear stuff, thought Connors.  Basically, an officer's body was owned by the department, regardless of how humiliating and debasing if might be for the officer to obey orders regarding physical tests.  Every inch of Scott Creager's athletic frame might, by necessity, be explored at will.  And there was very little he could do to prevent it from happening, not, unless, he was willing to sacrifice his future as a cop.
         
During his phone conversation with Mayor Edwards earlier in the day, there was absolutely no doubt that the mayor wanted Creager brought in for interrogation, asap.  The exact details of his offense would be discussed in detail at the meeting, the Chief had been told.
         
True to his word, the mayor provided the background information of a very explicit nature, details all seriously damning for the young officer.  In essence, the mayor's niece, a sports trainer for the football team at the local university, had witnessed Creager, or at least someone she thought had been Creager, naked and aroused, masturbating in the showers of the football lockerroom.  Exactly why and how his niece had been able to witness this event would be explained at a later date, said the mayor.  For the immediate present, however, the mayor wanted the cop brought in for questioning the next day, 9:00 am sharp at police headquarters, Interrogation Room C. 
         
As Chief Connors well knew, interacting with an officer accused of a crime was tricky business.  Thankfully rare, such interventions when needed or demanded required delicate maneuvering on both the sides of the accused as well as the party bringing forth the complaint.  Things became exceedingly more complex when the officer being accused had a stellar record and was well liked and respected by both his fellow officers and superiors, a perfect description of Office Scott Creager.  The accused officer might naturally become angry and indignant just by the fact that he had been mentioned in a complaint.  And complaints of a sexual nature definitely contributed an element of electricity to the whole situation.
         
Making matters even more complicated was the fact that Connors personally liked Creager and had gotten to know his wife as well.  Chief Connors' own teenage son had taken a liking to Officer Creager when the boy had asked him, a former football player himself, for some tips on how to be a better quarterback for his high school team.  Creager willingly agreed to help the kid, spending several afternoons at a local park going through various drills and plays.  Scott and his wife often attended the high school games, and, on several occasions, had tailgated with the Chief and his wife before some of the home games. 
         
But all of these positive images of Scott, his actions both with the department as well as those outside of it, would soon be taking a dramatic turn in a quite different direction once the Chief called him in for some preliminary questioning..
         
Scott, dressed in full uniform, ready to go out on patrol in just little under an hour, knocked on Chief Connors' door at exactly 8:00 am, as requested in an email he had received the day before.  The Chief, talking on the phone as Scott entered the room, pointed to a chair which Scott calmly sat down in.  While the Chief finished his call, Scott looked around the office and, with pretended interest, gazed at various photos and plaques on the wall behind the Chief's desk.
         
"Sorry about keeping you waiting.  My wife.  Had to take that call, you know!"  Both men chuckled and looked at each other with knowing grins, as if to say, "Yeh, wives.  Can't live with 'em, can't live without em!"  Just two guys shooting the breeze about wives.  Nothing more.
          
The atmosphere in the room quickly changed, however, when Chief Connors rapped his knuckles loudly on the polished desk, a move which caused Scott to involuntarily flinch.  Looking Scott directly in the eyes, the Chief bluntly stated, "We have a problem, Scott.  A big one."
          
Connors, sparing none of the details he and learned the previous day with the mayor, gave the facts to Scott straight.  No euphemisms made themselves into the Chief's words.  As the Chief explained the nature of the complaint against him, Scott sat in numbed silence as he heard works like "naked" and "erection" and "masturbating," his mind not quite able to grasp the scope of the Chief's words.  A female trainer had watched him shower and jack off under the spray.  A preposterous claim, thought the officer.  How could somebody say something like this about him?
          
When Connors had finished, Scott again found it impossible to understand how he could be accused of these things.  After what seemed liked hours of silence, an ashen-faced young cop began to slowly respond, his mouth dry, his words awkward and hesitant.  Gone was he confident officer who had walked into the office only minutes before.
          
"Chief, I can say without any doubts that I never did those things.  I admit I was naked taking a shower, but most guys I know are naked when they're in the shower!  And I definitely don't masturbate in public.  I'm not ashamed of my body, but I'm not an exhibitionist, allowing young girls to watch me stripped and aroused in a lockerroom.  I was the only one in the shower area that night.  I'm absolutely sure of that."
          
"Scott, you admit you were at the university gym that night, using the weight room, then later inside the lockerroom, specifically the open shower area, right?"
          
"Yeh, Chief.  I was there.  I have permission to use the weight room and showers from Coach Larkin.  He gave me a key and all.  I sometimes help him with the football players, especially the rookies, you know, the ones having trouble learning all the playbook stuff.  He gave me access to the place just as a kind of thank you.  I've been using it for little over a year, I guess."
          
"Do you usually use the showers after you work out?"
          
"Yeh, most times.  I hate driving back home in the squad care in sweaty clothes, so, yeh, I usually shower and then change into dry sweats and a t-shirt.  But Chief, I'm always alone.  It's usually around midnight when I finish up, the only time I have on Tuesday rights after my 10:00 shift ends.  How can this person say she saw me in the showers doing....what she said I was doing....if I were the only one there?"
          
"The girl has a key to the coaches office because of her job as trainer.  She had to get a flash drive from the computer on her desk, and, while she was hunting for it, she heard water running in the shower room.  The office has large glass windows looking directly into the shower area, constructed in the days when it was still ok for the coaches to keep an eye on things.  Several years ago a complaint had been issued about the lack of privacy concerning the windows, somebody probably afraid that a gay coach might get too interested in the parade of naked football players passing by the glass.  So thick green drapes had been installed to take care of the problem.  It was through a small opening through these drapes that the girl saw you.  At least she thinks it was you.  The steam from the water obscured your facial features a bit, and she didn't want to open the drapes any further than they were for fear of being discovered in the office.  But she did get a pretty good view of your body from the neck down, as well as what she perceived you to be doing with your penis."
          
After Scott had digested all this, the Chief continued.
          
"She connected you to the police department when, about 30 minutes later, she saw you from across the parking lot getting into your police car.  Again, she was pretty far away, but you had parked under one of the lights, giving her better than average illumination to make out your basic shape and appearance.  She said once she had seen you in the showers, she quickly had left the office and headed toward the parking lot, hoping to come across Campus Security.  But the only other person around in the parking lot was the person she thinks is you.  At least she's 90% certain it was you."
          
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until Scott finally spoke.
          
"What do we do about this, Chief?  I was there on the day and time in question.  But just taking a shower after my workout.  Nothing else."
          
"The girl said she was traumatized by what she saw," the Chief explained, "and, if she's able to identify you with complete certainty, wants you to be held accountable.  Now what I have to say now is important, so listen up.  She told the detective assigned to the case that she would drop all charges of lewd conduct and indecency only if she could be sure you're the guy.  She would then feel satisfied that the right man would be paying for the crime through the inner workings of Internal Affairs.  She wants nothing more.  She'd allow us to have complete authority over your punishment.  She just doesn't want to see a guilty man walk."
          
Scott began to comprehend what the Chief's words meant, that this whole situation was much more complicated than he first had imagined.
          
"Chief, maybe I need to see my rep about this.  Get his views on what I should do."
          
"Scott, you're perfectly within your rights to call your rep.  But remember, once you do, all that we've spoken about gets written up, your being naked and masturbating and all.  I want you to think here, Scott, what it could do to any future promotions.  It would be in your record that you had been involved in a lewd conduct charge.  All that you've worked for could be gone in a flash.  You need to think of your family, their future needs as well as yours."
          
Scott's jaws and neck muscles began to tighten with anger and fear at his predicament.  He just wanted this entire morning erased.  He wanted to be the cop he was yesterday, a cop happy at what he was doing, a cop with a future. 
          
As the anger continued to build within him, Scott finally spoke, in words barely audible.  He looked at the Chief and said, "What do I have to do?"
          
The Chief felt an inner sigh of relief as he heard Scott say what he had just said.  Now he had to give Scott more bad news, wondering how he would react to what he now had to say.
          
"Scott, this isn;t going to be easy.  The girl, supported by her parents and their attorney, want you to submit to a complete body inspection in the interrogation room.  By complete I mean an inspection....minus your uniform.  They're absolutely adamant about the fact that you need to be observed completely naked, just as you were in the showers that night.  They feel this is the only way to set things straight.  If you don't agree to the inspection, they're ready to go public with the whole story, something I'm sure you wouldn't want them to do"
          
Scott's entire body went numb with contempt.  "No fuckin' way, Chief.  I want to talk to my rep."
          
"Scott, if I make the call to your rep, kiss everything you've worked for goodbye.  I've been around too long not to know how this will play out for you.  You will be damaged goods.  The Scott Creager everyone know and respects right now will begone forever.  Do you want that?  For yourself?  Your family?"
          
"I can't fuckin' believe this, Chief.  You know that I'm innocent.  Maybe she's got a thing for cops or something and just wants to see me squirm, as well as naked.  And now you want me to allow four people watch me strip down to my birthday suit, so they can get "a look at me'?"
          
The Chief silently looked at Scott, observing the subtle twitching in the kid's cheekbones, whether from fright or anger or confusion or perhaps all three, he couldn't tell.  What he did know was a young man sat before him, tormented at the decision he had to make,
          
"If I agree to this," Scott said, "when does this all have to happen?"
          
"They're ready now, as we speak.  I was hoping you'd agree to their terms and had the meeting set up yesterday afternoon. I wanted it to be over as quickly as possible and not have it hang over you."
          
The anguish on Scott's face seemed to intensify and spread throughout his entire body.  The twitching around his jaws intensified.  Small beads of perspiration formed along his hairline and upper lip as he prepared to utter his next word to the Chief.  In sounds barely audible Scott managed to whisper the word, "Ok."

CONTINUE THE STORY:
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2 Comments

  1. adrk - June 10, 2016, 8:16 am

    awesome story love hear more bought the bachelor party he was cut out his colthes too!

  2. scotts60143 - June 12, 2016, 6:33 pm

    Great set up for chapter 2 which I will be going to read ASAP!! Luther5 always does great stories, and Amalaric’s artwork is simply world famous! Welcome to you both from all your work over at CM!!

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