Michelle: The Willing Prisoner

Michelle: The Willing Prisoner

Michelle was lying on the bed, making sure not to break free of the half-ass bondage that was supposed to be keeping her hands tied to the headboard. David had bound her wrists with neckties and was giving her some short, quick strokes with his tiny dick. She couldn't wait for it to end.

They had met on a dating site a week before, under the premise that they were both lovers of bondage. David was good looking enough, a little short, and seemed to know what he was talking about regarding BDSM. Michelle learned the hard way that he did not...

The mainstream bondage revolution of the early 2010's had captured the imagination of the thirty-three year old blond woman, but she had found it difficult to find a partner who shared her passion for bondage and discipline. She had run through several men who honestly viewed themselves as bondage enthusiasts, and most of them tried really hard. The fact was that Michelle got infinitely more satisfaction and thrills via the self-bondage that she had become a pro at putting herself into: Keys to her cuffs and shackles frozen in ice cubes; intricate slip knots to secure a self-hogtie that would keep her helpless for ten minutes or so; expensive time-activated restraints. She had run the gamut over the past fifteen years and, sure, these methods would eventually bring her to orgasm, but what she really craved was a man who knew his shit: a true lover of bondage to put her through the paces.

That summer she was at the lake partying with a large group of friends, friends of friends, friends of friends' friends... Plenty of booze and debauchery to go around and everyone was having a great time, until the State Game Warden showed up. Liquor was not allowed on the lake and it provided a great opportunity for the local government to collect some easy money in fines from the partygoers.

Officer Jack Riley was the first on the scene, and immediately radioed for backup when he realized how large the gathering was. Within minutes, five more wardens descended upon the throng, two on ATVs, and three on foot. A few minutes later, two police boats were bobbing in the shallow water just off of the sandy shore, just to make sure no one tried to make a swim for it. All of the officers soon had their ticket books and pens in action, writing up citations. This was a weekly ritual in the summer, and they had it down to a science.

Officer Riley was the one who approached Michelle, who seemed unfazed by the invasion and continued to suck down a White Claw.

"ID please, ma'am," he said to her.

"What for?" the tanned and toned Michelle asked.

The tall and devastatingly handsome officer raised the brim of his hat with his pen and then tapped the aluminum can she was holding. "No liquor on the lake," he said and smiled.

"I'm not on the lake," she informed him and took another swig. She could now see that the officer had dirty blond hair and pretty blue eyes.

Michelle was extremely cute, so he humored her: "No alcohol in the parking lot, on any of the beaches, on a boat, a jet ski, in your hand while you are bobbing around with water wing floaties on. Nowhere," he said.

"You gonna cuff me up, officer?" She asked, smiling.

"I don't think that's necessary. Just do me a favor and dump the rest out, please."

She took another drink and batted her long eyelashes at the park ranger. "It will be gone soon," she said.

"Look, ma'am," Riley was a little irritated now, "just go get me your ID and we will be done here in a few minutes. It's that, or the cuffs," he warned, tapping the handcuffs attached to his belt.

Michelle knew what the wise move was, but her excitement about potentially being put into real police handcuffs by a hot officer was clouding her judgement; that, and the several shots of tequila and hard seltzers she had guzzled down already. "I don't even think you're a real cop and I doubt you can arrest me," she said, finishing what was left in the can before tossing it at the officer's feet.

"You asked for it, ma'am," Riley said. "Put your hands behind your back."

The woman's heart jumped. What had she just done? She was a statue, too shocked to move. The officer gently, but with authority, spun the woman around and then grasped both of her slender wrists in his left hand while he slapped on a pair of hinged handcuffs. He carefully double-locked them and then grabbed his new prisoner by her upper arm.

Immediately Michelle could feel the weight of the cuffs: much heavier than any of the ones she had dabbled with, previously. Also, the hinge connecting the cuffs was much more restrictive than a chain. The new feeling of helplessness gave her a twinge of excitement and her nipples hardened.

"Where is your stuff?" Riley asked, looking down at her. He was a good foot taller than she was.

"Over there," she said and tried her best to point in the direction of her backpack. "The black and white one."

The officer scooped up the bag and then began to lead his new prisoner towards a sandy embankment that led up to the parking lot. Had the woman not tossed the can at him he would have made a better effort at finding her shoes, but instead she would be going to jail in her bare feet.

Michelle was led by her arm through the crowd of friends and acquaintances and she was now the center of attention, which brought on mixed emotions. Being hauled off in cuffs in a bikini was certainly humiliating, but it was also oddly arousing. Humiliation was not a fetish that she would have put at the top of her list, but the way she was feeling then made her rethink this particular kink.

They got past the crowd of drunks and then to the sandy incline that led up to the parking lot. The handcuffs were already starting to dig into her wrists and her excitement increased. The initial shock of being arrested had worn off and now she knew there was no turning back, even if she wanted to. No, she decided that she was going to make the most of this unique situation and see how far she could push the handsome officer.

Up the incline and onto the blacktop parking lot they went, and stopped at an old police cruiser that was parked in the shade of a large tree. Michelle noticed that the other police vehicles in the lot were newer pickup trucks and she inquired as to why the officer had such a lame car and not a truck. "This little thing would get stuck in a pothole," she said. She was now facing the car, standing inches away from the back, passenger door.

"I'm the youngest ranger on the force," he explained. "Spread your feet," he told her and nudged her ankles apart with his boot.

Michelle moved her feet a bit wider and got two more nudges from Officer Riley before he was satisfied. This significantly compromised her balance and she had to smash her impressive tits up against the cruiser to brace herself. "Not sure that was necessary," she said.

"Can never be too careful," he replied and then gave her a quick frisking.

Michelle was disappointed that the officer's search was not more thorough, or at the very least more aggressive. The best she got was when Riley lifted up her right foot so that he could remove a toe ring and a gold anklet she was wearing. He quietly placed the items into a tiny manila envelope and went about his business.

Her tiny swimsuit did a poor job of covering up her bronze skin, and a cursory rub with the back of his hand over her boobs, crotch and ass was all she got. "Not a very good search, officer," she said, straining her neck to look back at him.

Without replying, Riley put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her back from the car, and then told her not to run after he released his grasp. "Trying to run while handcuffed is not easy and you will get a far worse charge added when I catch you," he warned.

"You might want to shackle my feet then, officer," she antagonized. She leaned back up against the car door and watched for his reaction.

"You seem to be enjoying all of this, ma'am."

"I'm in to some stuff."

"Uh huh," the officer mumbled. He had placed Michelle's bag on the hood of the car and was going through its contents. He held up her driver's license. "I'm gonna have to put you in the car while I run this."

"You're the boss," she said, smiling.

The state park ranger pushed a button inside the car to unlock the door, and then helped Michelle in to the cage in the back and commented about the cramped accommodations. "You asked for it," he said before shutting the door.

Michelle was surprised at just how uncomfortable being handcuffed in the back seat of a police cruiser was. First of all, the seat was composed of hard plastic and she had to sit forward to keep from mashing her hands. Secondly, there was little to no legroom, even for a five and a half foot woman. Her confinement and general discomfort were a huge turn on.

"Comfy?" Riley asked. He looked up from his onboard computer to make eye contact with Michelle in the rearview mirror.

"What do you think?" She replied, wiggling around to adjust her cuffed hands.

The officer chuckled and got back to the computer.

A few nights before, Michelle had watched a body cam video on the internet of a surly woman getting arrested. The woman was kicking around so much that the police officers had to bind her feet together with what she discovered was a hobble restraint.

From what she had gathered, a hobble is nothing more than a nylon leash with a locking loop on one end that can be tightened around a person's ankles. The video had gotten her turned on enough to want to masturbate, picturing herself as the one confined in cuffs and a hobble.

The thought of it all got her juices flowing again and she asked Riley if he was carrying a hobble. "What does a girl have to do to get her feet tied?" She asked, leaning forward so that she could be heard through the holes in the plexiglass partition.

Riley looked up and adjusted his hat. "If you were to kick that glass there, I would consider it,"

Michelle squirmed around to extricate her feet from the tight area beneath her, and then gave the partition three good raps with the sole of her bare left foot. "This glass, here?" She asked.

Without saying anything, the officer calmly got out of the car and made his way to the trunk. He returned with a black strap in his hand and then opened the back door. "Feet out," he demanded.

Struggling in her cuffs, Michelle was able to get her bare feet out of the car and ready to accept their fate. "The tighter, the better," she said, wiggling her pink-painted toes.

The officer took his time applying the hobble, making sure to caress both feet as he went. Before giving the strap a good yank, he grabbed each foot and gave the soles a deep massage with his thumbs. "Enjoy," he said and gently lifted her legs back into the car.

"Was that for me, or you?" She asked. "The groping, that is."

"It was for both of us," he replied and shut the door.

Michelle was now beyond horny and she noticed that a bulge had appeared under the khaki cargo pants of Officer Jake Riley. Her fantasy was coming true!

Riley had pulled the loose end of the hobble out of the car before he shut the door. Then, he brought the nylon to the front seat, gave it a good tug, and attached it to a ring on the floor boards. This effectively pinned his prisoner's feet to the ground, rendering her even more helpless than she already was.

Now she was really stuck. Michelle couldn't move her feet at all and the cuffs seemed to be somehow getting tighter. She was in heaven. "Now what, officer?" She asked, slightly short of breath.

This time Riley turned around in the front seat and addressed his prisoner. "Well, you don't have any outstanding warrants so we do have some options. I can take you to jail, orrrrrr..."

"Or what?" Michelle asked. Her heart rate had sped up considerably.

"Well, I do have an alternative to booking you into jail."

"Go on"

"At my house I have, how should I put this, some devices and creative restraints that might teach a woman like you a lesson," he explained and then flashed his million dollar smile.

Michelle could hardly respond. Finally, she eked out a response that the officer could not decipher and he asked her to repeat it. "I accept," she said, this time she was heard.

Riley grinned and then started up the cruiser. "Good choice, Michelle."

The drive to Riley's house took less than ten minutes, but it seemed more like hours to Michelle. Her hands and shoulders were aching terribly and her ankles did not feel great, either. The officer had turned off the AC and she was sweating profusely in the cage. Also, she remained super horny and was in dire need of some sexual release. Had her hands not been cuffed behind her, she would have fingered herself right then and there.

The dirt road leading to Riley's house from the highway was nearly a hundred yards long. The officer took a paved driveway down an incline to the back of the house where he parked and got out of his cruiser.

A sweaty Michelle waited impatiently while he untethered the hobble and then released her feet. Red indentions from the restraints had formed on her ankles and Riley could not help but give them a sensual rub. Michelle thanked him and then asked if he had a foot fetish. "You seem to like my feet," she added.

"You have cute feet," he replied and then motioned to her to scoot out of the cage.

Riley helped her to her feet and then escorted her to the sliding glass doors that led into a walkout basement.

After her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, Michelle was able to see that she was in what appeared to be a normal basement den. There were couches and recliners that faced a large flatscreen TV to the left, and a bar in front of her with four stools and plenty of liquor bottles on the shelves behind it. Nowhere did she see any evidence of a dungeon she was expecting.

With a key from his breast pocket, the officer unlocked his prisoner's handcuffs and then stuffed them back into their case on his belt. Michelle massaged her sore wrists and continued to take in the room. "Nice place you got here," she said.

"I like it," he said, surveying his digs. "Let's get you processed."

"Processed?" Michelle was confused.

"Yep," he said, "strip searched and cleaned up. Take off your swimsuit."

She stood silently for a beat and then slipped off her top, and then her bikini bottom. She dropped the items onto the floor, but the officer shook his head and told her to neatly fold them. "Place them on the bar," he commanded.

She did, and then stood in front of the towering man, somewhat ashamed of her nakedness. She covered her breasts with her hands and turned sideways to hide her neatly trimmed pussy.

Without saying a word, Riley stepped behind her and put his strong hands on her shoulders. Then he led her to the bar, grabbed her by the wrists and placed them on top of it. "Back up a bit and spread'em," he said.

Michelle did as she was told and then was instructed to stick her ass out and to get up on her toes, which she did.

Officer Riley stood behind the beautiful woman and admired her tight ass and toned legs. Then he approached her from behind and grabbed her beautiful tits.

Michelle let out a moan as the man caressed her boobs and played with her nipples.

"Got to check for any hidden paraphernalia or weapons," he announced before inserting two fingers into her pussy.

Two strokes was all it took for Michelle to cum all over the tile floor, an orgasm that had been building for an hour or more. Riley gave her a firm swat on her ass and told her she needed to be cleaned up. "Let's go," he said, and led her from behind down a short hallway, and then through a doorway.

The bathroom was rather large and Michelle was impressed at how clean it was. "Sorry about your floor back there," she said, still recovering from her orgasm.

"Oh, you"ll pay the price for that later," he promised. "Get in," he said after opening the door to the huge walk in shower.

From a drawer, he grabbed a length of nylon rope and told Michelle to hold out her hands. When she did, he swiftly bound them together.

Michelle recognized the knot as one that she had seen many times in bondage videos she had watched: the rope was wrapped around her wrists, and then wrapped between her wrists several times before being cinched down. It was inescapable, yet not terribly uncomfortable.

The knot Riley had tied resulted in two loose ends that were fed through a sturdy eyelet that had been mounted into the shower ceiling, next to the shower head. Then, he took out the slack so that the bound woman's arms were now above her head and he tied the two tags off to another eyelet mounted into the wall tiles.

The brutally cold water shocked the system of the poor girl as she stood under the overhead shower, shivering. Riley manhandled her body back to a place that shielded him from the shower spray, effectively forcing her onto her tippy toes. He gave her ass another firm swat and then retrieved a bottle of feminine body wash and used its contents to lather up his bare hands.

Michelle did not dare ask her captor if he might turn on the hot water, and simply took her medicine while the officer washed her body. He started with her shoulders and made his way down to her breasts, which endured an extra-long scrubbing.

His touch was an incredible combination of strong but sensual, and it made her forget about the freezing water that cascaded down upon her. When he got to her crotch and began to massage it, she could feel another orgasm building. Riley could also sense that she was close to cumming again, and moved his hands down to her legs. Her getaway sticks got a good scrubbing, with extra attention given to her calves, and then he mercifully shut off the icy water.

"Feel better?" he asked.

She moved forward to get off of her aching calves. "Much better," she answered sarcastically.

It all felt like a wonderful dream to Michelle and she was worried she was going to wake up. This is what she had been searching for. This, is what she desperately needed in her life: Being under the complete control of a dominant man, with no chance of escape until he decided to set her free. She longed to let this man fuck the shit out of her, but was not sure that was even going to happen.

Blood rushed to her bound hands, needles of pain, when her arms were allowed to be lowered. Riley led his captive out of the shower by her hands, and onto a bathmat that felt good on Michelle's cold feet. He proceeded to dry her off with an extremely soft and fluffy towel and then led her out of the bathroom and into another basement room.

Now this looks like a dungeon, Michelle thought to herself, taking in her new surroundings. A variety of padded benches graced the room, along with a pillory and a set of stocks. There was a sturdy wooden beam in the middle of it that served as a whipping post and one wall had a pegboard with a variety of different restraints and flogging devices hanging from it.

Officer Jack Riley led the prisoner to the beam and forced her to a kneeling position. "Scoot back until your ankles can touch," he said.

When she had awkwardly backed into position, he took the end of the sopping wet rope and once again pulled Michelle's arms up and tied it off. Then, he got another length of rope and swiftly bound her ankles together behind the beam. Last, he pulled a set of nipple clamps off of the pegboard of accoutrements and screwed them onto her still-hardened nipples. "These are for squirting all over my floor," was all he said before he exited the room.

Michelle checked her bonds to see if there was any possibility of escape. Not to her surprise, there was not but she did have a bit of mobility in her upper half. Riley had left enough slack so that she could somewhat twist at the waist but her feet were not going anywhere.