Chapter Four -- The Next Evening
After a long and physically exhausting day, I was finally on my way back to the hotel.
As I swung the door open, there on the sofa to greet me sat Jackie, watching TV.
She was dressed much as she was the night before, with two notable exceptions. First, she had no blouse or jacket on -- only her bra -- and she wore her eyemask. Second, she was wearing her black silk scarf over her nose and mouth. She turned off the TV and turned to greet me as I put my gun and magazines away in the safe, closing and locking it.
"Hello,
dahling
," she said in a mock European sort of air and accent. "I've been waiting for you. There is beer cooling in the fridge, and thaht is good, because I am
hot
."
I loved the way she flipped the "r" in "fridge." This nice, elegant European (whether she was pretending didn't matter) woman was not going to take long to get me wound up. I went to the fr-idge and took out two bottles. It was some good stuff, too; she did indeed have fine taste. It seemed odd to drink something like that late in the afternoon of a cold day, but like she said, it was going to get "hot." I opened two bottles, took a sip of my own, and then took a careful look at her. She pulled down her scarf-mask and twisted it to the side. I handed her the bottle and put my own down next to the fridge.
Again, as the night before, her posture, her poise, simply her style and class, intimated things to come.
I picked up my beer. "Did your scarf work to hide your hickies?" I asked. "However, you're indecent. I should cite you," I remarked. I liked the way that sounded. "Get on the floor. Face down." I looked at her and felt the hot fire of lust beginning to flare up in me. "Ass up," I added. "Face down, ass up," I said again. I took a swallow of beer.
"But
dahling
," she began to protest.
"Face down ass up. Or face the wall, arms spread, palms out. One or the other. Do it now!" I barked.
She looked at me and apparently decided to comply, but not before she cupped a breast with one hand and licked a gloved finger of the other. She puckered her lips and blew a kiss at me, then stood up and smoothed down her skirt before she leaned against the wall. Her ass in that skirt was simply delectable. I wanted to fuck her, and the sooner the better.
I moved behind her and roughly kicked her feet and legs apart. "That's better," I said. "Place your shoulders to the wall." I reached behind me for my handcuffs. I made sure she didn't see them until I was ready. I placed a knee between her legs and brought the first hand down behind her back.
Click,
went the first cuff, around her wrist and locked before she knew what happened.
"
Dahling
, what
are
you doing?"
"Arresting you, m'dear, I told you. For indecent exposure," I answered. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present before and during questioning. If you cannot afford the services of an attorney, one will be appointed for you."
"What the hell is this shit? Besides, I have clothes on." There was a distinct tremor of unease in her voice.
I said nothing. I took her other arm and secured that wrist as well, and there she was, cuffed and stuffed. Well, cuffed, anyway. The "stuffed" part was still to come, but it wasn't going to be stuffed into a squad car. I took the opportunity to roughly and rudely grope her breasts and ass.
"You may turn around now, Ms Jacqueline." I took out my baton and flicked it open.
The clear, sharp
schwack
made it clear beyond a doubt what the device was.
Behind her mask, her eyes went wide. I had a feeling I was pushing the limits, despite my intentions. If it looked like something in particular, it probably was that particular something. "Relax, Jackie. This is for fun. No hitting, no hurting, nothing like that, OK?"
"OK, I think."
"Want to see another trick? Remember, I have a few."
"All right, but I'm trusting you."
"That's good to hear. And I certainly trust you. So do I have your consent?"
"For?"
"For various things I'm about to do."
She kept a wary eye on the baton. "I guess you do. Sure. Why not."
"Yes or no, my dear."
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Yes!" She stamped one foot in protest. "All right already! Yes! What are you, anyway? I still say you're a cop! First my rights, then my explicit consent!" she said. "I'd like it better if we'd have a good hot quickie before we go out, is what I'd like. I've been hot and bothered all day."
I put that remark away for future reference. "All in good time, my hot little doe. I believe I was saying something about another of my tricks. And I'll remind you again of your right to remain silent."
She stuck out her tongue at me and I took the opportunity to kiss her and suck on her tongue.
I moved the baton up and teased her magnificent breasts and then threaded it between her upper arms and shoulder blades. I moved around behind her. "Down," I said. I put the slightest pressure down and between her shoulder blades. Down she went. I lightly took hold of her upper arm and guided her to the sofa. "That's one right there. See how easily I can move you around?" I gripped the hinge of the cuffs and lifted her arms up her back, but only a little. Up she came.
"Damn!" she said. "Is this payback?"
"It ought to be," I answered. "There's a pair of swollen balls that have your name all over them. My sweet doe didn't let me finish the job this morning, if you remember." I took the baton out from between her upper arms. I raised her skirt and held it up with the tip of my baton.
No panties. I held the baton with one hand and ran my hand up the inside of her thigh and plunged my thumb in deep, just like last night. "Someone else shred your panties for you?"
She ignored the question. "Isn't there a law against this?" she asked, and began to grind herself against my thumb and hand.
"Sexual assault? Yes, there is, and this is actually aggravated sexual assault, but you gave your consent, so we're good to go. So no, I'm not violating anything. Except you, and you seem to like it."
"Damn, this is hot."
I took my thumb out of her pussy and collapsed the baton and tossed it away from us. I straightened her skirt for her. "Sit," I directed. "What's hot?"
"Me. This. Being handcuffed and rough handled and violated." She sat up straight on the sofa, her legs close together, the picture of confidence. Except for her hands and forearms which were not visible. And her lack of a blouse. More accurately, she was the picture of sexy and hot poise. Her mask and scarf added to the heat.
"Oh, you can be sure you'll be violated some more. And it's too bad I don't have a waist chain or a pair of leg irons. Or both."
