For nalak

Detective Jameson entered the cold interrogation room and blinked as the fluorescent lights’ unforgiving glare hit him right in the face. He closed the door behind him and sat down, his eyes darting toward the mirrored glass that separated him from the trio of observing officers.
Across from him, sat the suspect, a late-twenties woman called Nadia Collins. Her calm demeanor bordered on defiance. Her long, slim legs were crossed, and her high-heeled boots shone under the harsh light. Their gazes met, and for a moment, he was drawn to her beauty, as though she could see right through him.
Nadia leaned forward. Her crimson blouse fell just low enough to reveal the swell of her rounded breasts. They were tantalizing and barely contained by a lacy black bra. It almost made no difference if it was there or not, but he noticed it. He had been trained to notice even the smallest details, not that there was anything small about them.
She had long, black hair with subtle red highlights, full, glossy lips, and an infectious smile. Her eyes were verdant and lined with a smoky shadow. Every time she opened her mouth, it was hard not to think she was always three steps ahead of everyone else.
The police detective pressed his palm against the table separating them and said.
“Good morning, Miss Collins. I’m Detective Andrew Jameson. Since you waived your right to have an attorney present in the room, I’m going to ask you a series of questions about an ongoing criminal investigation. Can I count on your full collaboration?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Good. I’m going straight to the point, then. We know you’re involved in the recent string of burglaries downtown. Who are you working with and where can we find them?”
She tilted her head and smirked. “Burglaries? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Detective.”
His elbows rested on the table. “Don’t play coy with me, Miss Collins. You were caught near the last crime scene right after it happened and tried to evade the officers who answered the call. Now, why did you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want to be harassed. Many of you boys have a knack for shooting first and asking questions later. I don’t know about you, but I don’t gamble with my life if I don’t have to. Besides, there were plenty of other people in the area. Why did you single me out?”
“I’ll ask the questions here, thank you. What were you doing there at 3 am?”
“Taking a walk, duh!” she shook her head. “Is there a law against me doing such a thing?”
“A woman alone at that hour? That’s hard to believe.”
Nadia frowned. “Hello? Sexist much? Are you a misogynist, Detective? Because if you are, perhaps it’s best if someone else handles this interrogation.”
“You’re not taking this seriously,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Oh, believe me, I am!” she giggled. “I’m waiting for you to ask me something worth answering. You’ve just accused me of being a thief. What evidence do you have to support your claim?”
“Again, you’re here to answer questions, not ask them yourself. You were present at the last crime scene, and a woman matching your description has been reported by three different witnesses in other locations as well. Are you telling me it’s all one big coincidence?”
“All I’m hearing is a lot of assumptions.” She uncrossed her legs. “I move around a lot. Traffic cameras are always tracking me wherever I go. I may have been near those crime scenes, yes, but so have countless other people. I’m also not the only woman with black hair and green eyes in the city, am I? You need to give me something concrete, Detective, otherwise this is a waste of time.”
Jameson sighed. This was not going well. Nadia was so masterful at taking control of the conversation that he wondered how their roles had been reversed. He blamed the lack of sleep and the dreadful coffee he drank that morning, but that didn’t change a thing. He wanted results, and so did his peers.
“I think we’d better start over,” he mumbled.
“If you say so.”
Jameson circled back to her presence near the last crime scene, this time avoiding the direct accusatory tone. Nadia leaned back on her chair and smiled, knowing that the ruse wasn’t going to work. It was too late to play “Good Cop” now.
The interrogation - if one could even call it that! - went on for a few more minutes, but nothing came of it. Despite his best efforts to hide it, Jameson was nervous, a first in over ten years in the force. Nadia was getting under his skin, which made it all more embarrassing. After seeing things drag on from behind the one-way mirror, Jameson’s Captain texted him to meet him outside.
“One moment, please,” he said to the ever-smiling Nadia. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take all the time you need,” she replied before adding, “I hope the scolding isn’t too bad.”
Captain Rodriguez was waiting in the hallway, his weathered face unable to hide his frustration. The two other officers flanked him. They were also disappointed with the way things were going.
“What the hell are you doing in there, Jameson?” Rodriguez growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You’re spinning your wheels and we both know it.”
Detective Harris, the younger of the two accompanying officers, crossed his arms. “She’s playing you like a fiddle, and you’re letting her.”
Rodriguez wasn’t keen on letting him continue to make a fool of himself. “Release her. Now. She’s right. We’ve got nothing concrete, and this interrogation is going nowhere.”
Jameson felt the air drain from his lungs as if he had been hit by a boxer’s punch. “With all due respect, sir, I need more time. Something’s not adding up with her story.”
“More time?” Rodriguez scoffed. “No. You’re risking a lawsuit and compromising the entire investigation.”
There was too much tension in the air. It was a high-profile, and yes, he was far from the top of his game. Still, his track record should count for something, right?
“Sir, I understand where you’re coming from. The Department is under pressure, but I know I can get to the bottom of this. Fifteen more minutes, that’s all I ask. Give me that, and I promise you won’t regret it.”
“And what happens if you don’t get anything?”
“I’ll withdraw myself from the case if that happens. Please, Captain. Go grab a coffee or something and let me handle this.”
“Hmph… A coffee sounds good…” He turned to the other officer. “Mathis, tell me we still have some of those pistachio donuts I love so much.”
“I saved the last two just for you, sir,” Mathis, ever the bootlicker without an ounce of shame in his body, replied.
“Fine!” Rodriguez rubbed his hands. “Fifteen minutes, and that’s it. If nothing comes of it, process her release paperwork.”
“Understood.”
Jameson let out a loud exhale as the three men walked away. Captain Rodriguez was… intense, to say the least, a short man who acted and spoke like a giant. Twenty-five years on the streets had hardened his temper and judgment beyond recognition. When he wanted shit done, he stopped at nothing to get results. Jameson had put everything on the line to make up for his misjudged approach, and now it was time to prove his worth.
As he returned to the interrogation room, a chill ran down his spine. Whatever game Nadia was playing, he was determined to unravel it, no matter what. He turned the camera off and walked in.
The sultry woman was waiting for him, lounging in her chair as if she owned the place. “Detective,” she purred. “Is it just the two of us now? Because I’m looking forward to talking to you again.”
Jameson bit his lower lip. Her legs were crossed again, and she had raised her skirt a little to give him a glimpse of her panties. Her confidence was almost supernatural, and far more than bravado. It was a dangerous weapon, aimed at his mind… and nether regions.
“Miss Collins…” he licked his lips. “If you could please sit less provocatively, that would be great.”
“Aww, but I like this position a lot…” she batted her long eyelashes. “You’re not getting distracted, are you?”
“Of course not, but this is a police station, and there are rules that…”
“Fuck the rules, okay?” She placed one boot on top of the table, and then the other. “Now, it’s not the time to talk about them. We’ve had some fun earlier, didn’t we?”
“Being made a fool of isn’t my idea of fun.”
“Ah, so you admit you were being played. Good. I was worried you weren’t paying enough attention.”
“Miss Collins, I’m here to get to the bottom of things, not play another round of cat and mouse with you.”
“Why not, mousey?” she chuckled. “What? You didn’t believe you were the cat, did you? How could you be? I’m the one with the pussy, after all.”
“Is there a point to this constant flirting?” he circled the table, annoyed.
“There’s always a point. You need to understand something. You’ve been so focused on the obvious that you’re missing the bigger picture.”
“And what’s the bigger picture?” he asked, standing where he could get a perfect side view of her sexy boots.
“The bigger picture is that you were never in control here. You thought so, but… well, let’s say you’re starting to see things more clearly now, aren’t you?”
Jameson frowned, his heart rate quickening. “What are you saying?”
Nadia raised her boot and then hit the table with the tips of her heels. Then she extended her right leg to brush his shin. “You know…” she said. “You feel it, don’t you? The pull… the compulsion to… obey.”
He blinked, shaking his head. “What the hell are you…?”
“Be quiet now,” Nadia interrupted him. “Look at my boots, Detective. Look at them.”
Reluctantly, he did so. The leather shone in his eyes, dark and supple. The boots rose to just below her knees and were adorned with silver buckles that caught his gaze and held it.
“Watch the boots,” Nadia’s voice dropped to a sexy whisper. She traced a slow, deliberate line up his inner thigh. The calculated movements - up, down, up, down - synchronized with her melodic words.
“Focus on the way they shine. See how they catch the light? How smoothly do they move? They’re as smooth as my words… just like my thoughts sliding into your mind.”
Jameson gulped as his arousal grew. Each subtle touch seemed to bypass his rational thoughts and connect with something deeper, a lingering idea in his subconscious mind. Her heel pressed against his leg, a gentle yet firm pressure that demanded his complete attention.
“Keep watching the boots and listening to my voice. Listen to the truth you’re after.”
Jameson locked onto her lips, the sound of each syllable echoing in his ears as his focus narrowed. Her boot was leaning into his genitals now, cock hardening in direct contrast to his fading thoughts. He looked down, and the boots captured him once more, making him fall into their dark reflection.
“Imagine a swirling pattern, a vortex if you will,” Nadia continued. “See it in my boots as they weaken your soul. It’s so easy to spiral down, to become one with this irresistible gravitational force. As you grow more aroused, you think less, argue less, and latch on to a single concept, which is compliance. You want my voice in your mind, and my boots controlling it. That’s why you’re listening. That’s why you’re sinking. You’re not going anywhere except down, down… lost in my words, enraptured, enchanted, hypnotized…”
The boot’s heel dug deeper into his engorged testicles, but he didn’t complain. He was still looking down, transfixed, seeing everything she wanted him to see, and hearing only her words and his syncopated breathing.
“Hypnotized by my boots… Submissive to my boots… Obedient to my boots…” Nadia added, allowing each suggestion to flow into his thoughts. The Detective remained frozen, a statue for her amusement, powerless to stop her from reshaping what he thought he knew.
“You’re so mesmerized now that you’ll offer no resistance or try anything against me once I tell you the truth. Instead, you’ll find yourself growing weaker and addicted to my boots. You’ll see how smart and superior I am, and how doing as I say is what your life should be. Forget the procedures and surrender. You are trapped by my boots, seduced by my boots, enslaved by my boots. Boot slaves are called slaves for a reason. Because they submit. Because they obey. Because they never go against the one who’s wearing them. Go deeper now, blank and obedient. Blank and subservient. Mine to command.”
The last traces of Jameson’s thoughts vanished in her boots. Still keeping his cock in check, she said,
“You’re right, Detective. I am a thief, and a good one. You have no idea how easy it is to get people to give me what I ask… Well, you do now. There’s always a weak link in every crime scene, someone who falls for me long enough for my partners to take what they want. I have a lot of fun controlling who I please, and yes, this is fun, too. Of course, you won’t remember any of this when I’m gone. This confession will be forgotten, buried in the deepest recesses of your memory. Why should you remember it, anyway? My boots don’t want that, and you want only what they say you do. Even now, you continue surrendering, more and more hypnotized, more and more obedient. If I were to command you to kneel and kiss my boots, you would do it without hesitation, wouldn’t you?”
Detective Jameson nodded, but didn’t act upon the ever-growing desire. He was waiting for permission, a direct order to override his need to play by the book and respect the sanctity of the precinct. 
“Hmm, yes…” she said, “That would be nice, but not here. Not now. It’s best if we do it somewhere else, more private, away from all the badges around here. You can be useful to me, Detective. You can help me by derailing the investigation further and making sure my associates and I are never caught. That’s a good role for you, the perfect way for you to serve me and my boots. Doing so makes you hornier and more compliant, and it also pleases me. Make me happy and you’ll have the chance to worship my boots soon.”
Jameson nodded, absorbing each command without blinking. Nadia’s boots had trampled all resistance, and now there was only her will.
“Good boy. Thank you for making this so easy for me,” she pulled her boot away from him and rose from her chair. “We’re done here for now. When I open the door, you’ll wake up from your trance, unaware of what just happened. You’ll process my release so I can be on my way, and then you’ll do whatever it takes to get the spotlight away from me. I don’t care what you do as long as you obey my boots. The next time you see me wearing them, you’ll surrender your mind once again, and then we’ll see whether you deserve a reward. Thank you for the fun, boot slave.”
Nadia pinched his ass on the way to the door and watched as his eyes tracked her every movement. The moment she opened the door to the interrogation room, his foggy mind began to clear up.
“It’s time, Detective. I need to go,” she said. “And good luck tracking down those burglars. You’ll need it.”
“Hmm… right…” He struggled with the words. He had gotten nothing out of his fifteen minutes alone with her, but he couldn’t walk away from the investigation like he said he would. 
His only option was to lie. He would come up with something to keep the Captain pleased while doing everything in his power to undermine the work ahead. Nadia was too beautiful to be bothered by anyone’s meddling in her affairs, and her boots… God, her boots!
He followed her down the hall, certain of only one thing: he couldn’t wait to meet her outside the police station and do everything to make her smile.

The End