It was a cold Saturday morning in Chicago and Maureen Roberts, hypnotist and findomme extraordinaire, was out and about enjoying her favorite pastime of all: shopping with a slave’s money. 
The lucky fellow this time around went by the name of Hank Rossi, an Italo-American music producer with at least a dozen Summer Pop hits under his belt. Aged forty-nine and one week away from entering his fifties, Rossi had been introduced to her by a mutual acquaintance the year before and had soon proved himself to be quite easy to manipulate and control. Despite being convinced he was a living gift for women to worship and adore, a handful of conversations wrapped in subtle mesmerizing triggers had been enough to dispel his false claims for supremacy. There was nothing Alpha about him and that would never change.
Rossi’s innermost fantasies involved money, of course, face-sitting, but also kidnapping. The idea of being surprised on his way to work, forced into the trunk of his supercar, and having to spend hours upon hours locked inside it while his credit cards were being unscrupulously maxed out by an evil bitch was hotter than an erupting volcano and she was happy to play the role as long as he was willing to pamper her.
Maureen was a woman of many talents. As expected of someone who had turned domination into a way of living, she was like a chameleon to her legion of submissives, pets, and slaves. Some only saw her gentle side, others the nastiest persona of them all, but the vast majority had a Domme that was somewhere in the middle, sweet when needed but with no qualms in forcing discipline on anyone that tried to live without it. Not accepting her rules meant not having a place in her world.
The hypnotist had already spent an absurd amount of money on designer shoes and tantalizing lingerie when she strolled back to her borrowed vehicle. The plan was to unload the bags, grab another card, and start all over again, without looking back. Yet her good intentions were abruptly thwarted by the most unnerving piece of paper one could slip under a windshield: a parking ticket.
“What? Why?” she thought as she held the note against the blinding sunlight. She was sure to have paid for more hours than she had spent already. That was a mistake and even though Rossi could easily afford it, it wasn’t fair at all. She placed the colorful plastic bags on the rear seats of the silver Ferrari GTC4Lusso and surveyed her surroundings, looking for the culprit of such a random act. She found him walking back and forth on the other end of the street, a six-foot-four police officer with a uniform that appeared to be a bit too tight on the chest. He was young, perhaps late twenties, with cerulean eyes, brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and a small scar on his right eyebrow, a souvenir of a late-night bar fight with too many broken beer bottles to number. He was old-fashioned to the point of still using a notepad, one he was using to fine pretty much every car in the vicinities of the shopping mall.
“No, I don’t think so...” Maureen said. “Officer? Excuse me, officer...” she waved at him. “Could I have a word with you, please?”
The police officer bit the tip of his pen and looked at her sideways as if annoyed by the sudden interruption. “Can I help you, Ma’am?” he asked.
“Miss,” she replied, waving the white paper slip. “Yes, you can. Please tell me what this is all about. My parking time hasn’t expired yet.”
“One moment, please. I’ll be right there with you.”

Maureen crossed her arms and leaned against Rossi’s prized possession, one of five he kept in his private garage on the Gold Coast, and waited for the officer of the law to finish his round. After issuing tickets to three more vehicles for undisclosed infractions, he crossed the street to meet her and pointed at the floor.
“The problem is not lack of payment, Miss. Your car is not parked correctly within the bay markings.”
Maureen followed his gaze to see the left-front wheel veering slightly to the right, one inch past the markings. While he was technically right, the difference was so negligible it didn’t warrant any kind of punishment.
“You’re joking, right?” she sniggered.
“The law is no joke, Miss, and your vehicle clearly violates it. I’m only doing my job. I’m sure you understand.”
“No, I don’t, sorry. Clear violation? It’s one inch! Are you telling me that because of one inch, the car is somehow a danger to all the others parked around it?”
“Miss,” the officer wet his lips. “I didn’t make the rules. I’m only in charge of upholding them. I understand you don’t find this fair, but the truth remains that your car is improperly parked and so are a handful of others, all of which have been dealt with accordingly. I advise you to be more careful, so this situation doesn’t happen again.”
“Wow! Is the city so desperate for money that needs to resort to cheap tricks like this?” Maureen tapped the door of the luxurious car with her purple-painted fingernails.
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying...” The man in blue looked down at her.
“Well, I don’t like this ridiculous fine either. It seems like a petty application of the law and an excuse for a poor job, really.”
“Miss...” he towered over her, casting a shadow over her head. “I find such statements to be quite disrespectful and I’d appreciate it if you were not to engage in them again. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“So this is the kind of man you are, huh?” Maureen thought. Many of her thralls had had troubles with the police before, from unjust arrests to acts of random brutality. The power of the badge was often used as a way to justify belittling others for no reason, and she loathed that kind of behavior. He hadn’t been aggressive yet, but she could feel the seething contempt brewing within his mind as he continued to look at her suspiciously. If he was so easily triggered, then why was he in the force anyway?
Against her better judgment, she pushed him a little deeper to prove her point.
“This is bullshit, and you know it, I have no intention of paying this and you ought to be ashamed of exercising your authority like this.”
“You’re way out of line, Miss,” he ground his teeth. “Please don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Why? Are you going to arrest me for telling the truth?” Maureen asked. “Wearing that uniform gives you leeway for a lot of things but not for everything. I will contest this with your superiors, and I’ll be damned if they’re going to let this overzealous crap slide with no repercussions.”
“Okay...” he shook his head like an offended peacock and spat at her feet. “I’ve been very patient with you so far but not anymore. License and registration, please.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to see your papers.”
“Why?” Maureen firmly stood her ground. With hundreds of toys at her service, one bully cop barely made a dent in her resolve.
“Because I asked you for them and that’s reason enough. Are you going to question an officer of the law?”
“Considering your request comes off as a clear retaliation for what I said earlier, yes, I am. Your leeway is growing thinner and thinner by the second, Officer...?”
“Powell Blake, Miss, and you’re in contempt right now.”
“There’s no such thing as contempt of cop, Officer Blake,” she replied. “If anyone has been behaving inappropriately since this mess started, it’s been you.”
“Oh really?” the cop lowered his right hand to the holster on his waist. “Is that what you really think? Just because you’re a crazy bitch driving around town in a Ferrari, you’re convinced the rules don’t apply to you at all? Maybe that’s true for some colleagues of mine, but not me. I don’t care if you’re rich, poor, black, white, or anything in between. The law is the same for everyone and those who break it pay and shut up. License and registration. I won’t ask again.”
“I heard you the first time but with that unsavory attitude, the answer is no.”
Suddenly, a muffled voice echoed inside the car’s trunk. Rossi had woken up from a light mesmeric slumber and was confused about the commotion reaching his ears.
“Goddess? Is everything okay?” he asked.
“What was that?” Officer Blake went on high alert mode, furious eyes latching on to the rear baggage compartment.
“Nothing you should concern yourself with...” Maureen retorted but the damage was already done.
“The hell it isn’t. There’s someone in the trunk, isn’t? Pop it. Pop the trunk right now!” he drew his firearm.
“Officer, there’s really no need for that...” Maureen gently raised her arms. “This is not what you think it is.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Open the trunk, Miss, and let’s see what you’ve been hiding the whole time.”
“Goddess?” Hank queried once again, his voice teetering on the edge of both panic and frustration. Was this part of the kidnapping scenario she had created for him or had something gone terribly wrong for real? He banged his right knee against the inside of the trunk and heard an angry man barking at her as if she were a mass murderer or worse. Maureen growled back and then the compartment lid opened, the cold beams of winter sunlight hitting them on the face, elbows, and chest.
Hank was curled up inside, shreds of rope on his bruised wrists and hints of duct tape circling his dry lips. The impression of genuine struggle made everything more authentic in his eyes and yet the fantasy had already gone sour. His Goddess was looking rather annoyed but not as much as the young man in blue pointing his pistol at her back.
“What the hell do we have here?” he asked. “Sir, are you okay? Did this woman kidnap you?”
“No, I mean, yes...” he mumbled, unable to fully process his words and thoughts... “but it’s not...”
“Officer, if you’ll allow me to explain instead of making rash assumptions...” Maureen said.
“Shut up, Miss. I’m not talking to you. Sir, can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I... we... well, you see...” Hank tried to pull himself together, arms and legs partially numb from being in the same position for too long.
“It’s a game, okay?” Maureen confronted the trigger-happy policeman. “A bit of a risky roleplay between two consenting adults. I’m a dominatrix. This is part of the job description, but no one else was supposed to be involved. Tell him, Hank!”
“It’s t-true,” Hank stammered. “Everything Goddess said is the truth. We were just having some fun, Officer. T-there’s no need to be upset.”
“Hmm, this smells fishy as fuck to me!” Officer Blake exclaimed. “Can you prove what you just said?”
“Absolutely! This is my car. Let me just get my ID and the rest of the documents from the glove compartment so we can put this horrible business behind us.”
“Hurry. As for you, Miss, don’t move until this thing is sorted out. If I see you even flinch for a second, you’ll regret it, understood?”
“Whatever, jerk...” Maureen clenched her teeth, her weekend already ruined. It was ironic how every time she agreed to something a little outside of the norm, there was always something or someone hellbent on breaking the illusion and ruining it for everybody. She watched in silence as her puppet climbed out of his temporary prison and slid inside the vehicle through the door facing the street. Frantically, he rummaged through the glove compartment to find a handful of nothing waiting for him.
“Oh shit!” he said.
“What’s wrong, slave?” Maureen asked.
“They’re not here, Goddess.”
“What do you mean they’re not there? How can you be so reckless and misplace your papers?”
“I... I don’t know. I could have sworn they were here this morning when you picked me up but I guess I was wrong. Officer, if you’ll be so kind as to allow me a phone call, I can have someone look up the info and bring it here, is that okay?”
“I have a better idea,” the impatient man replied. “How about you come back out and you and your rich ho - or whatever she is - face the wall while I cuff you and read you your rights?”
“You’re arresting us?” Maureen asked, incredulously, as the situation continued to escalate beyond her control. “On what charges?”
“On suspicions of kidnapping, for starters. We can verify all of this at the precinct. If your story checks out - I doubt it but okay! - then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?”
“Officer, this is outrageous!” Hank finally stood up for himself. “I’m a renowned music producer and I know my rights. You can’t just whip silly accusations out of your ass!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him, but he refuses to listen,” Maureen replied. “And honestly, this whole thing is starting to piss me off.” she reached for her phone.
“Put that thing down, Miss. Now!” 
“Or what? Are you going to hit me, Officer?” she frowned. “Because that’s what it will take for you to stop me this time.”
“You rich people are all alike...” He waved his gun at her with the clear intent of firing first and asking additional questions later. “Face the wall.”
“No.”
“Goddess, what are you thinking?” Hank asked, staring into her fiery, unperturbed eyes.
“This has already gone too far. I refuse to be intimidated by a man who thinks he can hide behind a badge and the world will bend to his rule. Well, not on my watch. If you don’t want to be a part of what’s to come, then I suggest you take the wheel right now and drive away without looking back. We can continue our little adventure some other time after I’ve put some sense into his thick skull.”
“You mean...?”
“Yes, slave, I do. I understand the risks involved, so this is your only chance to avoid becoming an accomplice. Go.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” the police officer said. “What the hell are you two scheming right under my nose?”
“Nothing you should worry about,” Maureen smirked. “It’s clear you have some issues going on there, Officer. Your behavior so far has been nothing short of explosive and that’s quite the liability. You need help, so I’ll see that you get it, but we’re doing it my way.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” he pressed the gun against her head.
“Oh, you’ll see...” she said somberly, sending shivers down Hank’s spine. Knowing her the way he did, for a moment he felt sorry for the other guy. He had just picked a fight he couldn’t possibly win.