Settling the Speeding Ticket

Frank was caught one late night a while back speeding after he had a few drinks with some business partners. Frank pleaded with the motorcycle cop not to arrest him and would be willing to do anything to avoid the charges. The cop snickered at the man’s desperate plea and asked Frank to follow him to the backside of an abandoned warehouse nearby. There, the cop sat down facing Frank: “Well I’ve been on my feet all night and these boots are killing them. I could use a good foot massage and cleaning, and if I feel you’ve a good enough job relieving them, then I might think about your request.” A moment of slight relief for Frank. Sure it may a bit odd, but it was a fairly simple to rub and wash the cop’s feet, he thought. He quickly agreed and looked around to find somewhere to get water. The cop quickly stopped him: “No, no, no…you’ve got it all wrong, sir. No need to find water. I want you to use that big mouth and that sloppy tongue of yours to give my tired sweaty cop feet some deep rubbing and a good tongue bath!” Frank was in shock! There’s no way he was going to lick some cop’s nasty stinking feet! But then the cop threatened him again: “Get down and start licking NOW or you’re under arrest!” Frank couldn’t afford ruining his reputation, successful carrier and life like that. With no other choice, the businessman reluctantly got onto the ground, took the cop’s large, rough and pungent feet in his hands and slobbered his mouth and tongue on them without thinking about it. It was a good hour or so before the motorcycle cop was through with Frank’s foot worshiping effort and finally let the businessman go free. 

However, ever since that night, various policemen from the police station started showing up to Frank’s home at random times in the evening and demanded his foot services. He tried to refuse at first, but each time, the officers would threatened that they still have evidence proving Frank was not only drinking and speeding that night, but also resisted arrest! They also showed him a picture of him with the motorcycle cop’s toes in his mouth! With no way out, Frank had to let them in every time. Soon after, he just gave up resisting and simply resigned to his fate.

 

By now, Frank has smelled and tasted the feet of every cop from the station and they now have a growing collection of photo ‘evidence’ of Frank under every officer’s feet. These days Frank don’t get much chances to go out drinking and speeding anymore…most of his nights are spent under some policeman’s smelly feet and his home has become the unofficial ‘foot massage parlour’ of the local police station.