Sin Skin

Natasha was a flirt and a deliberate cock tease; it was the thrill of flirtation and of getting men aroused that she loved. Slow-dancing with a man, her hands sliding down to his firm bottom, feeling the start of his erection press against her through the man's trousers as she held him close was what she loved, and then leaving them high and dry as she said her goodbyes, leaving them to go home and masturbate alone while they thought of her.
It was a warm summer night, and she had not brought a coat to the club, walking alone through the quiet city streets at three in the morning, feeling the pleasurable afterglow of a night of flirtation and fun. As bright lights suddenly washed over her, she blinked and shaded her eyes, seeing that a police car had pulled alongside, one of the men inside shining a high-beam torch at her. She forced a smile into the brightness, assuming that the police were just checking she was fine, a young lady walking home alone.
“I'm fine,” she called, “But thanks for checking!”
She flirtatiously blew a kiss at the police car then instantly regretted it when she heard the gruff voice of one of the policemen. “Step back from the kerb, face the wall and put your hands on the wall, above your head.”
Sighing, she assumed there must have been trouble somewhere nearby, so they were doing stop and search on anyone out alone. As the car slowed to a halt, she walked over to the wall, facing it, her hands flat against the wall, high over her head. Natasha waited, hearing the car engine turn off and doors open, then she felt gloved hands frisking her, searching her tiny outfit as she could somehow be hiding anything. She gasped as her legs were kicked apart, hands running up and down her legs, then across her body, lingering just a little over the synth skin breasts that bulged in the halter top.
“Can I help you with anything?” she said, trying to steady her voice, “Is there a problem, Officers?”
A strong hand pressed against her back, pushing her flat against the wall, and making her gasp. “There's a problem alright,” said one of the policemen, “Last Friday, Sergeant Wallace was at Club Flamingo, and apparently he met an absolutely gorgeous babe. Looked a lot like you, in fact exactly like you. He said she got him hot and bothered, pretty much gave him a lap dance in front of everyone, but then vanished with barely a word, not even bothering to say goodbye, or give him a goodnight kiss.”
Natasha bit her lip, knowing that she had made a terrible mistake. The previous Friday, there had been a well-muscled handsome man in his thirties out alone at the club, and she had flirted with him early in the night, then danced with him, even writhing her body around his while he sat on a bar stool, half the patrons of the club watching avidly as she acted like she was in a lap dancing club. She had brushed the back of her hand across the crotch of his smart trousers just before she left with a smile, and had felt a massive erection there. The knowledge that she had teased him so much had excited her so much, but now she knew that he was a cop, and had been unhappy about this, she regretted everything that she had done. “Yeah, I remember him, but look I...”
A strong hand slapped against her synth skin covered bottom and she yelped. “Shut up. Sergeant Wallace told everyone at the precinct to keep an eye open for someone fitting the description, especially around the club. And look who we spot, walking home all alone.”
“I can give you my number, so he can call me!” Natasha was panicking, she had always just flirted and teased, never done anything more, and had never been in any kind of trouble with the police. The last thing she wanted was her secret life as a party girl coming out and ruining her male life. “You don't need to be rough!”
There was a short laugh from both of the men behind her, and one of them spoke, his voice low and close to her ear, “Oh, we do, sweetheart. See, Sergeant Wallace is a married man, so he's hardly going to call you. He's also got a very short temper, and when he gets angry at something, he shouts at us. And so we came out to find you. Do you remember his order, Officer Stevens?”
The other cop laughed, “I certainly do. His exact words were 'If you find that little cock teasing minx, give her a firm spanking and send her on her way.' So here you are, and here we are. Walk over to our car, sweetheart. Bend over the bonnet, with your hands flat against it.”
Shaking with fear, Natasha turned around, glancing at the two cops who were next to her. Both were tall, well over six foot and well-built, even bulkier in their armoured uniforms. Officer Stevens was dark haired with a short beard, while the other was blonde and clean-shaven. She shakily walked over to the car, leaning down and resting her hands against the cold metal of the car bonnet, the position forcing her ass high into the air. Her skirt was so short that in a position like this, it didn't hide anything, her synth skin covered buttocks fully displayed.
The two cops walked over slowly, Stevens taking a small camera out from a pocket on his uniform, stepping away a little and holding it up to his eye. “We're good to go. Give the little minx six of the best!”