Painful Hostile Arrest

The moon shone brightly through the trees as Clarissa was walking home from her boyfriends house. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk in a comforting rhythm that her head played her favorite One Direction song along to. She smoothed down the front of her miniskirt. It was soft, baby blue denim, with subtile white pinstripes and thick short pleats that fanned out at the bottom. It held her ass up nice and snug, every step stretching the tight material. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth and checked her phone, enjoying the breezy warmth of the night.

'12:10, I'm officially eighteen. Tomorrow I'll be able to buy the game green before I meet up with Kent. Ugh, He was so sweet tonight.' She smiled and checked his Facebook page.

A tinted black car rolled by slowly for what Clarissa swore was at least the second time, unsure until she recognized a dent in the rear bumper. She hurried her pace, gripping her purse tightly, the song ceasing. She was still a few streets away from home, about six minutes by her estimation. 'It's probably nothing,' she tried reassuring herself. 'I look sexy tonight, any guy would stop to check me out. I'm surprised I haven't caused an accident yet.' She smiled to herself, looking down at her full C cup breasts underneath her pink halter top. 'It was probably a different car, anyways.'

Though she doubted she had anything to be worried about her pace didn't slow. She lived in a less than completely quiet neighborhood void of serious crime, but the occasional break in or skirmish kept plenty of parents worried. Clarissa lived with her naive grandparents though, and she enjoyed and often took advantage of their lack of supervision.

A rustle in some bushes several yards in front of her made her stop. Her adrenaline started pumping as she tilted her head in suspicion, trying to see what could have caused it. Taking a step back, she decided to walk on the other side of the road.

"FREEZE, FBI!" A man in all black leapt from behind a tree next to the bushes. There was a metalic flash in one hand and a gun in the other. Clarissa froze, not because she was told to, but because her body wouldn't allow her to move. The man slowly approached her with a seemingly very cautious demeanor.

"What did I do? What do you want?" Clarissa took a few steps back as her heart pounded.

"I just need to take you downtown to ask you a few questions."

"How do I know you're a cop? Where's your uniform? Are you fucking with me?" She continued to back up.

"I'm an undercover FBI agent. The badge is real and this gun will fuck you. Turn around and put your hands above your head." He continued to slowly walk towards her.

"Am I in trouble?"

"You will be if you don't comply, but right now you're not. I just need to ask you a few questions downtown. I'm not here to hurt you."

"Ask me right now." She took another step back, shaking as he entered arms reach. He didn't look official to her, but she wasn't sure what to look for. Eventually she decided to trust him though, as she didn't think she could fight him off or outrun him, especially in her heels. There was nobody outside to come to her aid, and the surrounding houses were pitch black.

"That's not how it works ma'am. Now turn around and drop the bag."

She complied and he slid his gun into his belt, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. She felt her face flush as he guided her wrists behind her back and clamped the handcuffs around them. Her thoughts went to Kent as she felt her nipples harden. She absolutely loved bondage, and the seriousness of the situation aroused her further.

"I'm sorry if I startled you." He began lightly frisking her and she noticed his hand linger when it slid into the back pockets of her skirt. There were certainly very few places she could have anything stashed on her body. "Are the handcuffs too tight?"

"Not really." Her heart fluttered when she heard the word 'handcuffs', and she secretly knew that they could have been clasped much tighter around her strong but slender wrists without discomfort.

"Don't worry, this won't take long. I'll be sure to have you home as soon as possible." He picked her bag up and began guiding her down the street towards where he had surprised her. "Any weapons or drugs in here?"

"No, absolutely not." She quickly answered. He didn't respond, which she took for disbelief. On second thought she decided to be honest. "Well, there's a bowl and a little bit of bud, but it's not mine I swear."

"Mhm, holding it for a friend of course."

"Yes I am," she insisted, trying to sound offended. "What is this about?"

"I'm tracking someone," he sighed. "I'm reluctant to disclose sensitive info, but it's a drug dealer and we know you've been in contact with several."

"Drug dealers? L - look, I've bought weed from a few people, but I don't know any real drug dealers." Her skirt began slipping up as they walked, and she struggled to keep it down with her cuffed hands' lack of mobility.

"Very few pot dealers around here don't dabble in the sale of other illegal substances. Like I said, you're not in trouble as long as you answer my questions honestly and completely."

Her worry began to fade. He had a deep, authoritative and commanding voice, but he was gentle and seemed kind. She doubted he was lying, knowing the trouble he'd be in if he was. It didn't hurt that she was entirely loving being escorted down a public street in handcuffs. Where anyone could see her.

They approached a parking lot and Clarissa noticed him direct her towards the same black car she had seen. It wasn't fancy, and she noticed the small dent in the bumper. He opened the back door and she sat down clumsily, her heels pushing a McDonald's bag on the floor over. The man climbed into the font seat and started the car.

"By the way I'm agent Walker. Your name?"

"Clarissa Banks. Where's the metal cage thingie?"

"I need to have a normal car, sometimes I pose as a dealer and pick up possible suspects."

"Oh." Clarissa felt somewhat disappointed. She thought it would have been hot to rest her face against the cold metal and feel like a real criminal. They drove for several minutes and Clarissa noticed that they entered the next town.

"Didn't you say 'downtown'? Why have we left, isn't this out of your, um, jurisdiction or whatever?"

"We have different rules in the FBI," Walker answered after a suspicious second. Suddenly Clarissa realized something.

"Hey, why didn't you read me my rights?"

"You're technically not under arrest."

Clarissa didn't want to aggravate him, but she started to have trouble imagining an ending to this night that wasn't tragic.

"Then why did I need to be handcuffed?"

"Protocal." They finally entered the driveway of a small house, almost entirely hidden behind many large trees in the tiny front yard. Walker pulled the car into the garage, and Clarissa's suspicion transformed into terror. "I know this seems sketchy, Clarissa, but this is my base of operations."

"Please don't hurt me!" Clarissa's heart began pounding as the garage door slowly rolled down. She looked around in panic, unable to make out much in the dim light of the garage through the tinted windows. Walker opened her door and gave her a sympathetic look.

"I'm very tired, Clarissa, and this shouldn't take long if you cooperate. Please get out of the car." Out of fear of pissing him off she did as she was told, following him around the car, through an old looking creaky door, and into the house. He sat her down on the livingroom couch and went into the kitchen as she surveyed the room. It was dirty and cheap, and she had a very bad feeling in her gut about who this man was and what was going to happen to her. He returned with two bottles of beer which he set on the coffee table.

"You're a cop? An FBI agent is giving a minor beer?" She moaned in desperate horror with a depressed realization. She got her first good look at him as he yanked her to her feet, spun her around, and un-cuffed her. She though he looked vaguely familiar, trying to recall where they could have met as he re-fastened the cuffs around her wrists in front of her, then shoved her back down on the couch and sat beside her.

"Maybe they're both for me," he suggested as he cracked one open and took a long swig. "Ahhh... But they're not, so enjoy."

She gingerly took hers and opened it after several shaky attempts, only because she thought being rude would make her situation worse. She took a small sip and surveyed her host. He had a well groomed crew cut and broad muscular shoulders. His five o'clock shadow made him look older than Clarissa suspected he was. She had to admit he was very hot, although that didn't make her think she would enjoy what she suspected was going to happen to her.

"I've been watching you for about a month." Walker took another long swig. "I first saw you at your away high school basketball game here in this town, which I was at supporting my younger cousin. You accepted my Facebook request, and I fell in love. You're Goddamn beautiful and I thought, 'if I could fuck you just once, I'd be able to take the death penalty tomorrow and be happy'. Which I know makes little to no sense, but..."

He shook his head and finished the beer.

"I didn't think it was possible for you to ever want me. I mean, you've been with that Kent faggot for, like, years, so I came up with a plan. I'm very sorry to have to do this."

"You don't have to! If you take me home right now I swear to God I won't tell a soul just please, please, please..." Tears began forming in her large green eyes and she choked back a sob.

"Take another drink," Walker invited and she obliged. He left the couch and went into the kitchen again. Clarissa immediately leapt to her feet and ran to the front door, frantically trying to unlock it. In a split second Walker had his muscular arms around her, easily lifting her up tossing her onto the couch. He pulled a long length of chain from under a cushion, effortlessly pinning her down. He wrapped a leather collar at the end of it around her neck, securing it with a small padlock. The other end he fastened to one leg of the coffee table, secured by another padlock. Clarissa begged in sobs for him to stop, which went unanswered. Satisfied with her inability to escape, he returned to the kitchen.

"Fuck you! You're the faggot!" She screamed after him, tugging on both sides of the cold metal chain in desperate frustration. Neither side would budge, and her mind raced trying to think of a way out. Her phone was in her purse, which he had left in the car, and she didn't see one in the living room. She tried lifting the table to slid the chain off, but wasn't strong enough. He returned with a bottle of liquor and with a generous swig, sat next to her. He began stroking her long brown, almost black, silky hair, setting the bottle on the table.

"Help yourself." He offered, and unable to think of a reason not to, she took a large shot followed by a choking gag.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice was feeble and wavering in fear of the answer.

"That wasn't part of the plan, but if you don't do exactly as I say, I may have to adjust that. Like I said, I'm so obsessed with you and your unbelievable beauty, I'd be willing to deal with the consequences."

"You expect me to believe that shit? You'd go to jail for life for me? You're retarded!"

Walker laughed with another swig.

Clarissa took a long breath and another equally long shot as she thought about his words. She knew what she had to do as she looked into his stone cold eyes with her beautiful tearful ones.

"Fine, fine... Fine. Just please don't hurt me."

Walter grinned and cracked his knuckles. He undid her halter top and began massaging her thighs, kissing her half exposed neck and cheeks. He undid her bra and fondled her breasts, noticing her hard nipples with great satisfaction.

"Do you like it?" He breathed.

Unable to answer, he slapped her across the face for her hesitation.

"You will answer every question with 'yes master'. Understood?"

She looked into his face and nodded in terror. He slapped her again, harder.

"Yes, fucking master!"

"Better. Now suck my dick." He pulled his pants off and presented Clarissa with his fully hard cock. She immediately took the entire thing, in undeniable enjoyment. He stroked her head with his fingers as she stroked his with her tongue, slowly moving up the shaft, then diving back down.

"Oh my God you're better than I imagined," he panted, running his fingers through her hair as her head bobbed up and down with sucking, slobber filled

sounds.

She pulled up gasping for breath, looking into his eyes, hoping he would just cum and drive her home. Her chain leash drooped down her exposed, tan, titties and across her baby blue miniskirt, falling to the floor between her thighs. The pleats of her skirt were getting a little deformed with all the roughness but still fanned out, just not in the perfect alignment they had been in before.

Her lips returned to his cock and bounced up and down for what seemed like hours to her. Makeup running down her face, intermingling with tears, she couldn't deny her arousal. The entire situation was hot, though she could never admit it to him. His hands massaged her earlobes, then ventured to her nipples, and finally travelled up her miniskirt to her vagina.

With an unexpected roar he came. His hands forced her head into his lap, his long dick deep down her throat, spray after spray of semen spewed into her body. Her only choice was swallowing every drop, thankful for her missing gag reflex. He sat for several minutes, eyes closed, as she tried to wipe the tears and makeup off of her face.

"Holy shit," he panted. "I... I'd better undo this..." He stood up and wiped his dick off on the front of his black jeans, then put them on. Clarissa was worried by what he could have meant.

"Can, can I go home now?" She wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted him to fuck her or not. It would be the best sex she had ever had, but her love was with Kent, and she didn't want to cheat on him further. Trying to ignore her throbbing, begging vagina, she looked up at her attacker.

Walker looked down at her as though in shock that she was real. He began to pace around the room, rubbing his chin in thoughtful confusion. Clarissa begged to God that this psychotic looking man wouldn't decide that it would be easier to kill her. Finally, he stopped, took another swig of liquor, and unlocked the chains with a key from his pocket.

"I had planned on fucking you." He chuckled. "But plans change. Honestly I don't think I can cum again tonight."

Clarissa did not know what he meant as she stood up and he took another large swig from the bottle.

"Come on." He led her back into the garage and opened the passenger seat for her. She got in, not knowing what else to do, hoping she was about to go home. The garage door opened, the car began moving, and In a silent twenty minutes she was parked outside of her house.

"So..." She looked at Walker in confusion. Without a word he looked down, then unlocked the door. She got out, pausing only for a second, looking back at the miserable soul in the driver's seat. As soon as she slammed the door shut he sped off. Gripping her bag she took a deep breath, heading into her house.

The door was unlocked. Her grandmother awoke on the couch from the sound of the door with a cross but sadly concerned look.

"Where in Heaven's name have you been young lady?"

Clarissa did not know how to answer.