Message-ID: <20368eli$9903060427@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Nick Subject: A Traffic Incident - 2 by Nick (M/F bond) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <3.0.1.32.19990304225745.0079e230@pop3.demon.co.uk> Traffic Incident Part 2 (M/F Bond) by Nick (Copyright Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk) Note that this story is provided free for entertainment. You may copy it and distribute to friends but you may not make money from it or any part of it without my agreement, nor must you claim it as your own. This story is copyrighted to me (Nick) and I ask you to observe that. This story is of an adult nature, containing some sexually explicit scenes. I do not intend either for me or the reader to break the law in any country where it may be read, and so if for any reason the law of your country forbids you from reading adult literature, do not read any further. Authors Note: This, strangely enough, as a sequel to "A Traffic Incident", but this time has little to do with driving. If you read the first part, you may remember that I narrowly escaped the consequences of driving into a police car through the lucky coincidence that the policewoman in the car was a fan of my writing - or at least that’s what she seems... I got another e-mail from Ms_Plod, or Mary, as she signs herself. "Nick, I’m sure you’ll be wondering what kind of hold I have over Dave that I could prevent him from causing you serious damage both legally and physically. Well, keep guessing. I’m certainly not about to tell you - except to say that knowing how your mucky little mind works you are probably wrong. Anyway that is not what I’m writing to you about. I’m afraid it’s pay-off time. I told you that I‘ve read all your stories. Now I want you to write one with me as the main character. Don’t get big-headed! There are many writers far better than you, but so far characters like Theodore Spoonbender and Sven the Elder have not had the misfortune to drive into my police car, and the American contingent are never likely to do so. You may be smiling to yourself thinking, 'I don’t mind that!', but I’m afraid, dear Nick, I haven’t quite finished with you yet! Still that’s for another time. For now this is what I want you to write:" Well actually I do "mind that", I am not accustomed to being told what to write. I write what comes into my head and I resent the intrusion. Still I have to do what she says I suppose: After a hard shift Mary liked nothing better than to go to bed early with a bottle of gin - sorry wine, a box of sweeties and a cigarette with her telly playing some porn movie - no, an old weepie. Very decadent, maybe, but being a defender of the law took its toll, and everyone has their vices - though Mary has fewer than most. Reaching for a tissue she wiped away a tear as the hero's faced dissolved on hearing that his fiancee had cancer. (She didn't want to stain the silken sheets after all.) It was then that her honed instincts were alerted. Forgetting the movie she quickly ran through the possibilities that might have accounted for the noise she had heard in the living room outside and eliminated all but one. An intruder. Now most women would probably have cowered under the sheets, hoping and praying that the burglar wouldn't come into the bedroom and have his evil way with them. Mary, however, was a policewoman and well-trained in the arts and sciences of self-defence. Moreover as an officer of the law, she was taught not to shirk her duties whenever a misdemeanour was being committed, wherever and whenever it happened. In short she was never off duty. She slipped from the bed and pulled a silken robe around her naked body. Then she switched off the lights to allow her eyes to accustom themselves to the darkness and also, so that when she did open the door it wouldn't be blindingly obvious to the burglar. She walked to the door and pressed her ear to it. In so doing she was able to pick up exactly what the man was doing and even establish where in the room he was. Armed with this information, she burst into the room and before the man could blink she had his arm twisted behind his back and was forcing him to the floor, pressing her foot painfully into the side of his neck. "Aaaargh! Jesus Christ you're hurting!" She recognised the voice and reached for the table lamp, switching it on. "Oh, it's you Danny." Danny found himself looking up at a pair of smooth thighs, merging into darkness underneath the short robe, and then on up into Mary's angry face. He groaned as he recognised her. Pursing her lips cruelly, Mary pressed her foot harder into has neck, crushing his face against the shag- pile, and gave his arm a further twist. "AAAAAHHH! You vicious bitch, leave me alone!" "Now, now, language Danny!" Danny was a recidivist and since leaving school had never held down a steady job, becoming quite a regular at the local 'nick'. Mary had seen him a few times at the station and had been involved with some of his interrogations. They knew each other well. He had paid a few fines, taken a fair share of reprimands and even endured some short prison sentences, but since violent crime was not Danny's game he had never given "Her Majesty" much pleasure. (In other words any prison sentence he endured was always short.) With this in mind, Mary felt quite comfortable releasing her grip and letting Danny up. "Big mistake, Danny," she said shaking her head as her climbed unsteadily to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. "You should always check who lives in the places you're going to blag in case you come across old friends!" Danny looked sullen and more than a little crestfallen. "As it is," she went on, her hands on her hips, "you've disturbed my quiet evening in and thoroughly pissed me off! I'm going to drag you over the coals for this, do you understand me?" Danny glanced up at her before letting his eyes drop to his shoes again. "I SAID, DO YOU UNDERTSAND ME!" Danny took a step back and nodded. "Good!" Mary turned to reach for the phone. She could have brought him in herself, but she really didn't want to get dressed again and she was more than happy to give one of her mates the collar. Unfortunately Danny had seen too many Hollywood movies and thought he saw an opportunity to escape. He ran for the door, but Mary anticipated his movement and swung round almost lazily, her robe floating outwards as she did so, catching Danny in the throat with the edge of her hand. Danny fell back onto the sofa coughing and spluttering as he clutched at his throat. He looked up at her fearfully, and then dropped his eyes again. This time, however, the downward travel of his gaze stopped at about Mary's chest level. She glanced down to see that her left breast had decided to come out and take a peek at the action. Mary had been brought up with four brothers, and was more than familiar with the drives of the male animal. She knew how they reacted to their girlfriends and had even given them a few tips. Moreover, she had seen the appreciative glances of their friends (and also of at least one of her brothers) when they looked at her, and knew how to use her sexual power to best effect. In fact, if she hadn't become a policewoman she would have been... well, something else. She looked up at Danny again, smiling. "Why, Danny you're a man of some taste after all!" A brief break in the story to make an authors note: S to r y c o p y right belongs to N i c k at c a s s a n d r a dot d e m on dot c o dot u k as should be stated at the top. Sorry for the interruption. Please carry on reading. Danny stared at her even more fearfully. To his mind looking at an arresting police officers breasts bordered on a sex crime and he could go down for a *very* long time for that. Mary saw his fear and a wicked gleam crept into her eyes. The film she had been watching had not been very good, and in any case no film was a substitute for the real thing. Besides, it would be interesting to have a little fun with little Danny the burglar. It would make a good story to regale her friends with... well, perhaps not - she didn't have those kinds of friend - but it would certainly be fun. "Follow me, Danny." She turned and walked back into her bedroom, slipping the robe off her shoulders. The garment hissed softly to the floor, leaving her finely muscled back and flared hips to inspire Danny. Danny followed, still rubbing his throat. It never occurred to him that *now* he could escape. Most of the time, even a low-life like Danny has some gift that can work to the benefit of society at large, and if not certainly to the benefit of the individual. Danny's gift was in his fingers. He could have been a concert pianist if he had had lessons, but he had never had those advantages. Instead his talent was turned to lifting purses and wallets and picking locks of all kinds to gain access to just about anything on demand. Those fingers, he had found, were just as effective when working with the delicate parts of a woman's body. Even so, he remained stupidly unsure of the situation, right up to the point that Mary lay down on her bed facing him with her legs spread wide. "All yours, Danny," she smiled. Mary then discovered the magic of his fingers as, barely able to control himself, he placed his hands on her breasts and began to work on them. She gasped and felt a tiny trickle of fluid run down between her buttocks - far earlier in the proceedings than was normal. Maybe the earlier exertion had contributed to her state of readiness. Even so, she felt that she was losing control of things far more than she should have. Danny continued working on her, opening locks she never even knew she had. Her last coherent thought, was that it was just unfortunate that his gifts have little place in the world of legitimate employment. Danny was certainly a master. His hands roved over her body, touching every part, seemingly all at once and each stroke left her burning with an inextinguishable fire. She moaned and writhed uncontrollably as he worked at her with his tongue and mouth. He kissed and licked her everywhere, nibbling her earlobes, lips and even her fingertips, touching her clitoris and nipples with the merest caress that brought her to the point of near insanity. He could almost smell her lust, like burning metal as he fondled her. Danny always took a pride in his work. She all but exploded as soon as she felt his naked penis at suddenly at her entrance, her screams waking up sleeping cats outside. She was ready to beg him for release, when Danny spotted something. The bedside drawer was slightly open, and next to the vibrator and the police truncheon she kept there, was a coil of rope. He retrieved this and inspected it. "Yesss!" Mary whispered and held her arms above her head for him to tie her hands to the wrought- iron metalwork of her bed. In the cold light of day Mary would, of course, regard this as stupid, but it wasn't day, the lights were too dim and she was hot. Danny bound her wrists and went back to work. His hands now played unimpeded with her breasts as she struggled against her bonds. Her body twisted and bucked as she swung her knees from side to side, rubbing her thighs together. Finally he pulled her knees apart and 'broke in'. Afterwards, Danny was as gentle a lover as any man. He kissed her gently on the cheek and stroked her hair as she smiled in her afterglow. He reached across her for the cigarettes on the bedside table and lit one for her. "You know, Danny, for a villain you're a fair lover," she whispered hoarsely, as she drew on the cigarette, "but can you untie me now." "Thanks," said Danny, a man of few words. There was a short pause. "Danny, the ropes!" Danny swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his pants. "Danny!" He wandered around the bedroom looking at the furnishings and equipment appraisingly. Then he went to the wardrobe and retrieved one of Mary's suitcases from the top shelf. "Danny, you bastard low-life shit!" Mary's face was red, but not so much with the effects of her orgasm any more. "Danny! Danny, UNTIE ME!" She pulled at the ropes and struggled (in earnest now) to escape, but a brief period in the boy-scouts had at least provided Danny with a good knowledge of knots, if not social responsibility. Danny, wasn't really listening to her as he started to fill the suitcase with her valuables, but he did steal the odd glance at her - her writhing body still had some effect on him, despite that fact that his orgasm had been no small thing either. "Danny! You'll bloody swing for this Danny, you little shit!" she gritted through her cigarette. The suitcase full now, Danny turned to her and smiled. "I'll be back!" he said, imitating Arnie Schwarzenegger, though of course he had not intention of coming back. **** I sent the draft of this to Ms_Plod for her approval. This was her reply. "Nice one Nick! You know very well that my story ended after I'd seduced Danny. There was never any mention of any ropes or tying up. Who told you, you bastard!? Take that bit out. If you publish it as it is, I'm bringing you in! Mary" I'm sorry Mary, but I believe in the freedom to express oneself. I will not be dictated to in this way, and so I publish the full unexpurgated version. (Besides you don't actually *know* how I knew about the ropes, do you.) So do your worst! It's quite possible that I won't be posting for some time, or that my address might change. Something like Nick@wormwood-scrubs.hmp.gov.uk. In the meantime if anyone wants to comment on the above story, (or better still offer legal advice) you may contact me at my current e-mail address: Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk PS I am curious about one thing, though. What did she do about the cigarette? -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----