The 9th Hour by WolfenDom
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The 9th Hour
Part 1
It was one gorgeous, sunny afternoon; the air so crisp as the first clean
hints of the autumn approached. Just the sort of day that makes you want to
enjoy the outdoors and soak in all the warm rays from a brilliant, blue
sky. She just had to get outside and enjoy a drive with the top down on her
new red convertible.
The last few months had been a studied focus on her making sure her health
was primo, her body gorgeously tanned and firm. With her natural beauty and
looks, she so wanted to just be outdoors to stretch her long sleek legs
that seemed to never end and wear some of the sexy lil shorts and a top she
just loved to tease men with. She decided..."Enough work for today, I owe
it to myself to enjoy this one for what it's worth." And with that, she
turned slightly in the mirror, admiring herself, and headed out the door.
Greeted with that wonderful feeling of nature, as she closed her front door
and headed for the car, she squinted slightly in the bright sunlight.
Taking her sunglasses down now and over her beautiful blue eyes, her gaze
wandered along the tree-lined avenue, glad she chose to take the day off so
much now. Her long blonde hair, now below her breasts, seemed caught up in
the breeze as if nature itself was wow'd with her sexiness. She slid behind
the wheel, knowing how potent she was for the looks from men, and backed
out of the driveway and started down her quiet neighborhood street.
Arriving at a stop sign out toward the more bustling side of traffic, she
turned right to make her way towards the beach. Slipping a favorite CD in
by the Indigo Girls, it couldn't have been a better day, as she picked up
the tune and began to sing along. All too soon, her mind was shaken into
another world, an entirely new experience.
She was aware immediately of the motorcycle policeman behind her, having
the automatic cringe to check her speed and make sure her seat belt was
fastened. As quickly as she knew she was all right, the blue light on back
of the bike came on with the siren, and her mouth opened as she knew he
meant her. Pulling slowly over, and just down an empty side street, her
mouth was dry as she was totally clueless as to what she might have done.
He parked his motorcycle directly behind her, and in the rear view mirror
she watched the crisp navy blue uniform, white helmet, ray-ban sunglasses,
and black leather boots approach.
"Ma'am, may I see your insurance and driver's license?" She fumbled in her
purse, heart racing, palms sweaty, and meekly held her identification out
as she leaned over to get the insurance papers out of the glove
compartment.
"Step out of the car, Ma'am and move towards the back." Breaths of shock
ran into her lungs, unable to speak, lightheaded...all she could do was
wrestle with the seat belt, and have cold fingers pull the handle of the
door up, as she slid her legs over onto the pavement, her nipples jutting
through her cotton top from absolute panic.
Glancing only briefly at this helmeted, hidden man who towered over her at
least 6 inches, shoulders broad and tight under his starched uniform, she
didn't feel her feet even move as she took two paces, he touched her elbow
and had her face the trunk. The image of that gorgeous afternoon
immediately crumbled into the darkness of that supercharged, terrified
moment...nothing was noticed, except suffocating blind fear.
Facing him, he motioned with his head and black-gloved hand to turn around,
face the car. He tapped her white sandals with his right boot, indicating
for her to spread her legs. Touching her in the middle of her bra strap, he
ordered, "Bend over; put your hands up wide on your trunk, Ma'am." Tears
dropped off her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip to keep the trembling
from showing. A deep sob shook her body, but she froze immediately when his
large, gloved hand covered her left shoulder as his right patted just under
her right arm, fingers stiffly violating the soft flesh of her right
breast.
Proceeding down to her small waist, he stayed with his meaty hand over her
hip, fingers curling, flexing as if he was motioning her to move back
towards him. Frozen...the tears ran off her high cheekbones onto the
gleaming finish of her car. His left hand now began to fondle her body, not
at all businesslike as the right side of her felt; taking its time, assured
she would not move. The long legs trembled as he slid his strong fingers
deliberately over her nipple...lingering, making sure she felt an
unmistakable pinch. She heard him grunt some approval, as if he were
inspecting a side of beef. He came to her waist, and with a cupped hand
firmly slaps her hip, as if he'd known her for years. Knees crackled as he
began to squat; his left hand around, towards the front of her thigh, right
hand juts up under her crotch like a hatchet, gloved finger smacking her
pussy. The sound of well-treaded tires and a powerful engine suddenly fills
her ears, and comes up behind both of them. The hot engine smell reaches
her mind as the ignition is turned off, and both doors almost in unison
open and close. Heavy duty police cruiser.
Energized all over again with adrenaline, shivers run up her spine as her
arms begin to tremble from the drawn-out search tactics. The bike cop, pops
his knees again, as he throws out a breath of frustration, and stands up.
Heels click on the hot black asphalt as she's flanked now, just out of her
peripheral vision with two more brooding monsters. Sensing them, her
breathing stops once more. Blonde tresses cover her face from the sides.
"We have a warrant for her arrest; 'afraid she'll have to come with us down
to the precinct." Breaking, the first guttural sounds escape her throat.
Sobs...deep, jerking sobs.
That right, gloved hand pulls her roughly to a standing position, instep of
a right boot pops her leg above the ankle to close towards the other. "Put
your hands behind you, Ma'am." Breasts firm; the sweat that's formed
between them is cooled as a breeze again caresses her face. Vise-like grip
of a hand over left wrist draws her arm behind her...*click*...cold steel
squeezes into her thin arms...*click."..right wrist quickly seized and
snapped too.
Pulling her back into him, she gasped as she felt the pressure of a
straining crotch touch her fingers thrusting up into her manacled hands...
imperceptible, except to her...and him. Spinning her around, she's within
inches of the sunglasses, still unaware of whose eyes bear into her. Such
an evil grin spreads as his white teeth show the carnivore, leering at its
prey. He comfortably looks down at her breasts, firm and high, and perky,
and with a slow grin rotating up again, his low growl keeps her motionless
and pliable.
An impersonal push of his muscled right arm moves her over to the side of
the cruiser and in a few seconds, head covered with a heavy glove, she's
into the back of the gleaming white police car. The smell of cigarette
smoke, old and new, leather, equipment, radios...sight of the wire
cage...hood of the car gleaming through the bug-spattered windshield as the
three officers briefly discuss the matter. Chuckles rudely insisting her
predicament is grave. She repositions herself onto the seats, away from the
door. Soon tilted by the swaying of the heavy car as two giant officers
again mount their positions up front, the slamming of their doors denies
that the outside world exists.
Tears dropping again over the dried ones from what seems like weeks ago,
she sees the brute on the right look back into her eyes and just smile,
that same evil sort of grin she'd seen the predator reveal. Before she
managed to find her voice and ask what this was all about the massive
machine pulled out and heads down the side street with amazing
acceleration. Her head lowers as she hoped she'll have some idea soon to
make this all a very, very bad dream.
Blocks away, within perhaps five minutes of meandering streets off of the
main drag, she recognizes the local precinct building with it's
governmental cold construction. A small alleyway delivers them into a
concrete courtyard surrounded by more harsh brick, and the car quickly is
heeled to a stop, as the two almost immediately are out. One at her door
reaches in and manhandles her to stand on the ground, the other ascends
four steps to ring a doorbell/buzzer outside a stern steel-grey door. In no
time flat, she is swallowed inside the maw of the precinct hive.
People, civilians, policemen, all sorts explode upon her solitude. Hardly
noticing her, all within their own needs at the moment, she only glimpses
ashamedly into the eyes of a few uniformed officers, as it's too apparent
that her nipples are still erect and teasing under her small top. And even
more provocative are those shorts barely covering her cheeks now from her
sitting in the cruiser. Passing into her, as tightly as the aisle of a
movie theater, her breasts are brushed, hips bumped as one strong direction
continues to march her forward into the maze of hallways, doors, and
offices.
A huge, black, steel-enameled door with a barred opening at face level,
funnels the sounds of captives, prisoners, criminals from the other side.
Looking in terror to her escort, the keys jingle, slide in and turn the
large bolt. Swinging its heft wide...she looks down a hallway where arms
minus bodies are moving with no apparent meaning outside of caged cells,
cigarette smoke puffed into the common walk from unseen sources, and that
immediate clamor and smell of too many people using a facility that's been
far too neglected for cleanliness. Down the slick, glaring hall she
stumbles, assured of no tripping from the giant of an officer that
half-pushes, half-lifts her along with abruptness and apathy. It has been
over two hours now, and she's yet to make one word understood or even said.
At the very end of the hall, as catcalls spewed putrid words of shame and
humiliation at her, embarrassing her even more than she had been before.
Stopping in front of a door less than three feet wide, she again is left as
the keys are found that once more find rusty hinges yielding to male
strength. Thrust inside, she almost slips on the condensation of the floor.
"Turn around, and when I have your cuffs off, remove your clothes and give
them to me through the bars."
"Why???," the first word she's managed since she looked into her
convertible's rear view mirror. "Do you want me to remove them far you,
Ma'am?," as he reaches again to find the key to place her with him again.
"No...no...please...no...I'll do it." Turning away from him, into the
seemingly protective shadows in the corner, as no light enters except for
what comes from the hallway. She slips her quivering fingers to the shorts,
sandals, top, bra, and panties...and miserably hands them to him through
the painted, chipped bars. His face still is hidden from her, as the light
is behind him and only on her body and terror-filled face. "Come closer."
He reaches and envelopes her right breast, squeezing cruelly, as she gasps
and immediately pulls away, not even realizing her hands are now free.
