Chapter 1

Spring 2001 - Britain.

 

The village lane was almost a dark tunnel, a thick high hedge on one side, the towering slab sides of barns on the other. Only a single street lamp at the lane's end provided illumination, but Susan, humming softly to herself as she made her way home from the pub could see well enough by moonlight. She was merry but sober enough. Her lover unexpectedly having had to work that evening, but knowing he'd be home and horny later, she'd just had a couple of halves.

It was a quiet little village, a nice place, so when the car cruised up behind her, following instead of just sweeping past, she felt more puzzlement than the heart-pounding apprehension that would have been her first reaction when still living in a big city. She stepped up onto the grass verge, further out of the way, waving the car past, sure the driver would have seen her as she'd sensibly worn a reflective yellow Sam Browne type belt and shoulder strap. The car stopped, a powerful engine purring, harsh lights stretching her shadows away down the lane. Susan looked back, squinting in the glare, only to be further dazzled by flashing blue strobe lights. The police car was skewed slightly across the lane, pointing directly at her.

The driver's door opened. An arm across her eyes, she could just make out a peaked cap, the glint of a badge on the cap and on the uniformed man's shoulders, before the policeman's powerful torch stabbed into her eyes as well.

"Both hands up!" the policeman barked. "Above your head where I can see them. Name!"

"Uh... Susan Barncroft," she stammered, arms obediently raised, totally blinded now.

"Step down onto the road in front of the car. Turn around. Keep those hands up!"

"What's this all ab..."

"Quiet!" he barked. "Just do as you're told. You can tell it to the detectives when I get you to the station."

The blue lights danced here and there, bouncing off the high hedge and the towering side of the barn. In the headlights she had two shadows, an overlapping X, as she stood obediently in front of the car, hands on top of her head. The police car's radio crackled, but she couldn't quite make out what was being said.

"Okay, slowly. No sudden moves! Toss your handbag behind you."

"But I haven't done anything," Susan protested. "You've made a mistake!"

"Tell it to the judge. Do it!"

Susan obeyed.

"Good! Now the coat."

She heard the unseen man rummaging through her coat pockets, her handbag emptied across the car bonnet. Now in just blouse and skirt she felt far more vulnerable, goose bumps coming up on her skin even though it was a mild night.

"Okay, good. Now, before I can put the cuffs on you, I need you to show me you haven't got a knife or something hidden somewhere. I want you to run your hands over your skirt. That's it; pull it tight!"

Biting her lip, Susan grasped the sides of her skirt and pulled it taut over her buttocks.

"Good girl. Now stroke down the thighs. Hard!"

Breathless, she obeyed.

"Very good Susan. Now up the inner thighs. Pull your skirt up to show me."

Susan made a little pleading noise, more a gasp than a word, but was ignored.

"I once arrested a hooker with a flick knife pushed down her stocking top," the police officer continued conversationally. "Not making that mistake again. Pull the skirt higher. Show me the tops of your stockings Susan."

Heart pounding, thudding in her chest, Susan felt cool night air on her backside.

"Good girl, you're doing fine. Now stroke around the waist. Good. Now squeeze between those ass-cheeks for me."

Flushed, almost panting, she obeyed. She could hardly think. This was so unexpected.

"Right, now turn and face me. Stroke down between your legs. Harder. Harder! Okay lift the skirt. Let's see what you've got hidden down your panties."

"But I can't," Susan stammered. "Not..."

"I told you to be quiet," the officer said menacingly. "Now be a good girl and I'll make sure you get a nice cell. The one covered by the entrance camera, so that the lads on night shift can't come visiting."

Susan held up her skirt and then pirouetted to order, displaying her stockings and suspenders, the night air a strangely sensual caress on her bare flesh. She was very aware she was wearing a thong.

"Good girl. Now the tits."

Without resistance now, she obediently slid her hands over her breasts, fear and perverse excitement leaving nipples swollen hard.

"No, squeeze those tits properly!" he barked. "Harder! What's the matter? Got a razor blade hidden in your bra? Just waiting for a chance to cut me?"

"No! I would never... I mean... No!" Susan stammered.

"Squeeeeeeze!" he ordered lasciviously, drawing the word out.

Susan obediently kneaded, pulled and squeezed her own flesh. Her nipples were aching hard now, breasts lust-swollen, heat stirring in her belly. God, this was making her hot! Finally the still-unseen policeman called a halt.

"Okay, no weapons. Now let's find the drugs. Bend forward over the car. I'm going to search you."

Dreadfully aware she was wet, Susan obeyed.

"Arms wider, on the edge of the car. Legs wide. Wider!" the policeman barked.

Legs spread so wide her skirt was pulled halfway up her thighs, holding the edges of the police car's bonnet, Susan's body was bent forward from the waist, almost horizontal. The blue flashing lights were turned off, the headlights dimmed, but the engine still purred under her, vibrating through her hands. A long American-style police baton was stroked under her chin, raising her head.

"Don't move an inch!" the uniformed man ordered her.

"Please!" she whispered, throat exposed and spine arched as the baton pushed her chin higher.

"Not an inch. I'm warning you!"

The lights dim now, and still dazzled, Susan could only make out his shape, a hint of uniform. He was tall; big!

Behind her now, a firm meaty hand closed around each ankle, and slowly, deliberately, with a tight grip, stroked up her stockings. Bent sharply forward from the waist, she was quite helpless, could do nothing except fall forward onto the car. The sliding grip moved up her calves, over her knees, and up the outside of her thighs, pushing her skirt up over her hips. She quivered helplessly as fingers traced and then stroked under her suspenders, the bands pulled taut across her hips by her position.

Susan squeaked in outraged surprise as fingers stroked down between her legs, actually pushing the material of her panties between her sex lips, and tried to rear up off the police car she was bent forward over. A handful of hair and one arm pushed up behind her back froze her into place.

"Do you think we're stupid in the police? Just because you stuff the drugs up your ass or snatch, you think I won't find them? That I won't dare search you properly? Twenty years ago, maybe, darling!"

"But I haven't..."

"Quiet!" he snapped.

With her legs spread wide, and bent forward, an arm pushed up behind her back, Susan couldn't support herself with one hand. Her uniformed tormentor pushed her forward and down, deliberately pushing her breasts down onto the police car's throbbing bonnet. She cried out in forced pleasure, vibration hitting her erect nipples with the shock of 240 volts. And then engine heat burned through blouse and bra with a delicious warmth.

The police officer allowed her up a moment, and then pushed her breasts back down onto the hot vibrating metal, the large mounds flattening under her, her tormentor ensuring the maximum amount of flesh came into contact. Up, and then she was forced down again, totally helpless, pleasure and humiliation strangely intertwined, her cry a confused wail. He pushed her free hand back down onto the edge of the bonnet, his free hand now resting carelessly on a bare buttock.

"Going to be a good girl now?"

"Yes, yes," she stammered.

"I prefer members of the public to address me as Officer!"

"Yes Officer," Susan gasped obediently.

He stroked her behind, then reached under her to heft and knead a full breast. Susan groaned as a nipple was pinched.

"You've no objection to a body and internal search? You consent freely?"

"Yes Officer," she moaned.

Slowly, but firmly and deliberately, extracting the maximum humiliation from the situation as well as testing his power, the uniformed man hooked his fingers under her panties and pulled up, forcing the now sodden rope of material deeper between Susan's sex lips. She squeaked when he yanked up, the thong cutting painfully deep into the soft flesh of her pussy, pulled up onto her toes. A palm between her shoulder blades - lightly, guiding not forcing - pushed her breasts back down onto the police car's bonnet again. Susan cried out helplessly in delight.

Vibration! Heat! And her poor pussy being cut in two! God, she was so wet!

The pressure on her sex was reduced, Susan allowed to come down off her toes and up off the throbbing, hot, bonnet. The officer stroked a buttock. Trained now, she made no move or word of protest when the sodden crotch-rope her thong had become was used to pull her to her toes again, big breasts obediently pushed down onto hot, vibrating metal; her only response a helpless moan. Ass up, breasts down, again and again, until she was gasping, close to sobbing, close to coming!

The search was long, slow and relentless. Standing up against her, his crotch pressing up against her, Susan could feel the police officer's erection. He reached up under her blouse, fingers sinking into her stomach, tracing the line of her ribcage. Stroking over her shoulders and down under her, the big man's fingers ever so lightly caressed her collar-bones, stroked her throat; and then his breath hot on her neck, he reached inside her bra.

It was a fantasy come to life. Susan, obediently motionless, sighed in soft pleasure as her swollen nipples were rolled between thumb and forefinger, groaning as her breasts were pulled out of her bra, the full firm mounds roughly squeezed and twisted. It was even better than the submissive fantasies her lover had forced her to reveal to him, kneeling naked and bound at his feet, while he dripped candle wax onto her breasts. Perfectly docile, she was still as her breasts were handled, her sex lips stroked and pinched, buttocks patted and stroked.