This is a continuation of my latest news post at Onezumi.com. If you haven’t read the post over there yet, read that before you read this one.

In college when I was about 18 or 19, I used to be very close friends with a professional dominatrix. We are still friends but she’s moved away from the area. Often I’d drive to her place of employment to pick her up so we could go to the mall. Normal girl stuff. They tried to convince me to take a job with them, but paid sex work with strangers is just not my thing. Not on any level.

One night I dropped her back off at her place of employment, some friends of mine were there who I hadn’t seen in a bit. I ended up staying and chatting until about 3AM. It was just as normal as a party at an anime con.

As I was leaving, one of the local police officers stopped in to say hi. Everything done in this facility was “legal”, as no actual intercourse took place for money. (Allegedly, but I could tell you stories.), Apparently the cops were friendly with the owners. I decided to stop into Dunkin’ Donuts for a coffee before I made the trip home. That is when things got scary.

The police officer followed me into the parking lot and drove up to where I was walking. He rolls his window down and says hello. I reply, “Hello, Officer. Is there anything I can do for you?”

He says no. He says I’m pretty and he’d like to know if I would want to go to the clubs in NYC with him. I apologize and say, “I’m sorry officer. I’m in a relationship and I don’t really go out to clubs.” I hope he goes away. He slowly drifts his cop car close to me as I walk and keeps the conversation going. I turn and go into the shop and order my coffee. Never has a coffee shop felt more safe.

I had hoped he left. He didn’t. I get stopped again on the way out. I have a similar awkward discussion. I was informed that he has handcuffs so it’s convenient. He gets some kind of call on his radio, so I take that opportunity to get in my car and drive toward the Garden State Parkway and get my ass the hell home.

I see police flashers in my rear view mirror. Shit. I’m not speeding. My headlights are fine. Shit. Shit. Shit. It was the same cop. He stops me and leans into my window with the flashlight. This is where my memory is fuzzy because it was fucking scary. He was quite a bit more insistent than the first two times. Threats were made. If I remember correctly, I jetted as soon as he leaned away from the car. I fucking ran from the police. I made it to the parkway and made it home OK.

It’s amazing how differently you will be treated when someone thinks you work at an S/M club. You instantly become liquid; malleable. Able to be forced into doing anything. You become human -1.

It was on this night that I lost some respect for some members of the police. The thoughts of what may have happened had I not gotten out of there made the Officer Friendly character that they taught us about in grade school die a permanent death.