After a restless night on his jail cell bunk, plagued with erotic dreams
of black stockinged, tightly uniformed police nymphets, Hamish decides
that a five mile run and dip in the loch in the cold dawn light might
cool him down. He dresses in sweats and trainers and sneaks from his
cell, but at the door is confronted by daddy's girl eager to flex a
few muscles. Dressed in loose fitting sweats with nothing underneath
she is hot to trot.
During
the first mile as she outlines her determination to succeed in the force,
Hamish is aware of the outline of her breasts bouncing unharnessed under
their soft covering. He hots up the pace and she relishes the challenge,
glowing with pride as she chats about her enjoyment of the rigours of
training college. She asks if he takes a morning swim and is game for
a plunge. He insists that the water is too deep. With sweat making both
their tracksuits cling, she paces Hamish up hill and down dale as they
head for home. She says she wants him to respect her as a policewoman
and is determined to prove that women can be as efficient as men in
the force.
Back at
the modest cottage-come-police-station, as they mop off, she continues
to insist on the necessity for women being able to handle themselves
in physically violent situations. She complains that in unarmed combat
training the men didn't give women opportunity to prove themselves.
She tells Hamish how unfair the men were, for example, with handcuff
training. Her cuffs are there, she asks Hamish if he thinks she could
cuff him even if he seriously tried to resist.
Exhausted
from his run and distracted by her physical presence he is noncommittal
but she is hyped and insists she could cuff him against his will. Before
he can tactfully avert the situation she has grabbed him by the sweats,
turned him round and slammed him against the wall. On a roll, she is
kicking his feet apart and shouting that he should put his hands up
the wall. When he hesitates she pulls him back and slams him against
the wall more painfully. As he tries to reason with her he does as she
repeatedly orders. The Speedcuffs click around one wrist and it is twisted
painfully down and round into the middle of his back. In spite of his
protests she drags the other arm down and connects with the cuff. As
the procedure ends she is elated and steps back.
Hamish
painfully moves his feet together before turning round to face her.
He is glowering with rage but when they both realise that his prick
is rigid as a tent-pole he is reduced to silent embarrassment. She laughs
breathlessly. "You see! I know how to get my own way. I knew I
could do that - and I could get you to the cell, even if you resisted.
Do you think I could, Hamish?"
He shakes
his head and is about to object when she yells "Damn you, Hamish
Macbeth!! All I want is for you to see that I am good at my job. I can
handle myself. I need a chance to prove myself. I'm not just here because
of who my father is. So - you are going to the cell, like it or not".
Hamish's refusal dies on his lips as she arm-locks, bends him over and
frogmarches him along the corridor despite his protests.
At the
open cell door she pushes him inside and stays outside, but does not
close the door. "I want you to respect me, Hamish."
He remains with his back to her, his sweats clinging to his damp body.
"Do you respect me, Hamish?" adding sharply, "Turn round
and look at me, damn it".
He turns round and his knob still sticks out against his damp track
suit.
"Is that a sign of respect, Hamish?"
He does not answer and she moves towards him. "Is it?!"
He refuses to speak and she grabs his nob with a firm grip, lifting
and twisting it slightly. "Is it a sign of respect, constable Macbeth?"
Eventually he answers "Yes!"
Still holding tight she demands,"Yes what, constable Macbeth"?
He is uncomfortable rather than in pain, "Yes what?" he asks.
"Yes, constable Ellis. I am your colleague - and would like to
be your equal. Indulge me, constable Macbeth? Give me opportunity to
prove that I could be your equal? An equal match for you?"
He remains silent, so her grip turns into a stroke of his penis. He
squirms.
"I think I could make you say and do a lot of things, constable
Macbeth?"
He doesn't reply and with a sudden ruthless grab and hold, she again
lifts.
"Couldn't I, constable Macbeth?!"
"Yes."
She lifts higher "Yes, what!?"
"Yes, policewoman Ellis"
She corrects him, "Police constable Ellis!"
Stepping
back through the cell entrance she closes the barred door.
"Humour me, Hamish. I'm used to getting my own way - but I need
to know I can get it even against strong resistance. So you will be
doing me a favour if you put up a good fight."
She turns the key and takes it from the lock "Don't go away".
Hamish is left to sweat. It drips from his nose but with hands cuffed
behind his back, he can only blow it off.
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