This is classic police-procedural abuse-of-power bondage fantasy, but in the best tradition of the genre, it stars an unsympathetic victim who makes it worse for herself:
Stephanie was now standing in her white bra and a large pair of conservative white panties, that looked like they could have sailed a small boat.
“Now turn around and put your hands on the wall.” I managed, before a howl of protests drowned me out.
“Just wait a second, if I have to do this now, just to see my daughter.” She shrieked, as if the proverbial light bulb went off. “Then what did my daughter have to do?”
“Your daughter?” I said trying to choose my words for effect. “She had to strip, strip to the skin for us…Just like you.”
“You fucking pigs!” she screamed out. “She’s just a baby.”
(Geez…. Just how old do you have to be, to not be considered a baby anymore?)
The room was becoming almost unbearably hot, as the three of us stood there waiting for the other to blink. She wasn’t just gunna have my badge now, she was also going to sue me for sexual harassment and misuse of force. Well if there is one thing I’ve learnt so far its, if you’re going to get sued, make it worth it.
Finally, I had to help her into position. Now behind Stephanie, I pulled on the back of her bra straps and ran a finger under them, making my way over her shoulders. I ran a finger under the cups of her bra and just lightly over her nipple. Stephanie quickly spun around. Venom on her breath, as she raised her hand.
“Think about it,” I managed, before I felt the palm of her hand slap across my left cheek. The sounds of smacking flesh echoing of the walls, my eyes instantly glassy. I saw her hand raising for an other swing, but I caught it this time and spun her back around. Forcing her into the wall, while quickly finding my cuffs. I slapped them on her wrists and raised her hands over her head and hooked them into a hook that was bolted into the wall, for just this purpose.
While a stunned Kevin watched her, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and clear my eyes, while also trying to regain my composure. I spent some time typing up the paper work, before entering the processing room again. I read Stephanie her rights, over her cursing, as I explained how she was going to get to spend the night with her daughter, after all.
“Ok, now we can continue the search,” I said, as I felt around the back of her straps again.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me!” She screamed, as she spun her head around and spat at me. Fighting my natural instinct to smack her one, (as that just wouldn’t be cool.) I went over to the large table and unlocked the lone drawer. I found the mask we use for “spitters.” Its like a doctor’s mask, but it’s made of leather.
“I’m glad you’re here Kevin, so you can witness this,” I said, as I strapped on the mask, despite Stephanie’s defiant actions. (I could also use the witness in court, although I knew that there wasn’t a Judge in a state that would rule against my father, or more importantly for me…his son.)
I went to the table again and found the medical scissors. I made sure she could see them, before I ran them under her bra strap, cutting a shoulder strap, and then the next. Reaching around her body, I ran the knife up her stomach. I cut the bra through the middle, right between her breasts. The large bra fell to the floor, revealing her two large slightly saggy breasts to our view.
Kevin, (making a simple rookie mistake,) bent down to pick up the bra, and received a knee to the head for his effort. It was now Kevin’s turn to use the bathroom to clear his head. While he was doing that I went to the supply closet and found the seldom used leather straps. I waited for Kevin to return, as I figured he would want to assist me in the next part.
When Kevin joined me, we strapped Stephanie’s kicking feet together and then un-hooked her from the wall hook and laid her face down on the dirty concrete floor. After removing the handcuffs, we strapped her fighting hands behind her back. We brought her legs up, and attached her hands and legs together, effectively hog-tying her.
I gabbed her by the arms, Kevin by the legs, and we carried her squirming body down the stairs to the holding cell in the cold basement. Opening the cell door, we carried her in and unceremoniously dumped her on the concrete floor. She shrieked out, under the mask. I must have been her red-hot body — hitting the cold floor.
