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From: Nick <nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk>
Subject: A Traffic Incident - 2 by Nick (M/F bond)
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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?



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