WPC Harris in Hostage Blues (bros) Complete (M/F)

[Deleted User 769]

Greetings fellow travellers.
As you can see, since we last spoke I've been hard at work practising my omniscient narrator voice.
So, why don't you pour yourselves a cold, refreshing beverage, move your chairs a little closer and let me bring you up to speed,..

We open on an all too familiar scene,..
WPC Stevie Harris, (23, police constable, scrabble aficionado and semi-professional hostage) is once again in the clutches of a professional villain. In fact she is currently squeezed into the cramped confines of a mini metro with her hands and feet tied.
The vinyl seat creaked beneath her as she struggled valiantly against her bonds.
In many ways the young police woman was grateful for the strip of tape that had been plastered over her mouth. At least that meant she didn't have to taste the rancid cocktail of cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes that was soaked into the upholstery and left the car smelling like an ashtray from the 1970's.
Worse, the fumes from the broken exhaust pipe were making her dizzy.
Much longer and she might begin to hallucinate,.. in fact, for one brief moment she almost thought she spied a gremlin clinging to the side of the wing-mirror,..

The takings from the illegal poker game (which judging by the thief's demeanor fell some way short of the desired amount) were stuffed into a sports holdall and left, unattended on the passenger seat.
Once again, in a typical act of selflessness Stevie Harris had volunteered herself as a hostage in return for the guarantee that no-one (else) in the club would be harmed during the escape.
Dressed in her tight, starched uniform, consisting of a crisp, long sleeved white shirt (buttoned up to the collar) with a chequered neckerchief and black trousers she was attempting to bear her captivity with as much grace and decorum as the situation would allow.
It was raining heavily but, predictably the wipers weren’t working meaning Dean Cook (40, club singer, multiple felon) had to lean forward in a desperate bid to get a good view of the road as it flashed by.
Although she didn't suffer from travel sickness, Stevie felt decidedly relieved when the car finally came to a screeching halt.
“Wait here!” He instructed her in his most impressive timbre "Don't worry, I left the window open a crack"
Stevie, who had little choice in the matter, watched impassibly as he retrieved a handgun and the bag containing the money and locked the door behind him.

Left alone in the car WPC Harris began to struggle against her ropes but was frustrated (if not surprised) to discover they held fast (her efforts were significantly hampered by the seatbelt which pinned her to the chair like an overgrown toddler)
Although she couldn’t get her hands out to see her bonds Stevie could already guess that she had been trussed up with a gentleman's neck-tie.
She doubted it belonged to the robber.
Unless he wore it to court for a bail application,.. or, more likely sentencing.

Her bonds had been tied firmly and precisely, the knots placed deliberately out of reach of her fingers. She almost certainly wouldn’t be able to get free without help. However she tried to remain positive.
Her fingers probed the back of the seat cushion in search of something, anything, to cut herself free.
At this point a, clearly intoxicated, reveller in a torn vest appeared at the window, however rather than free the young policewoman, he seemed content to simply leer at her through the glass.
In fact he seemed to be staring in a most alarming manner,..

Becoming somewhat uncomfortable Stevie attempted to call out to a young couple as they passed, but they hurried away as though rushing to catch a bus,.. or possibly flee from an escaped lion,..
Of course it didn't help that her attempts to communicate were limited by the (annoyingly thorough) gag she had been fitted with.
She sighed with frustration.
If the strip of thick black tape plastered over the lower part of her face wasn't bad enough, her mouth had also been stuffed with a handkerchief.
To Stevie's mind this indignity represented something of a breach of social etiquette,..

After a few minutes the crook returned, the bag now noticeably heavier.
“Okay, Copper, hold onto your wigs and keys, we're about to make the jump into Hyperspace” He yelled excitedly, starting up the car at great speed.
Within minutes they were speeding down the highway, paying scant regard to the finer points of the highway code. Every fork, or bump in the road causing the reluctant passenger to jolt violently in her seat.
It was almost as though the driver was fleeing the scene of a robbery.
Which, of course, was exactly what he was doing.
Stevie grunted angrily, trying to get the thief’s attention.
“Whnt!” Stevie began.

“What is it Lassie?
('Must we do this every time?' Stevie thought to herself)

“Rmhlln?!”

“Are you trying to tell me that Little Timmy's fallen down the well?,.. Again?”

“Nh. Hm'm nht dhnng thht.”
Stevie waited patiently for him to finish.
As something of a vetetan of these exchangres Stevie had heard every possible variation of this hackneyed routine by now, it was the damsel equivalent off "Who's on first,.."

“Hrm nhh dhnm?”

“Yes. No,.. look. If you needed the bathroom you should have thought of that before you agreed to be my hostage for the day”

“Fhnnn! Nh Hm whnt nhh th thgm mn ghg hff”

“I'm sorry?”

“Thm ghg. Ghn nhh thgm Hmt hff?”

He didn’t answer right away but pulled the car into a layby.

"I imagine you have some questions?"
Leaning over into the back seat, the corner of his mouth breaking into a wicked grin..
She nodded.

“Well I don’t want to hear them. However I am extremely tired would very much appreciate having someone to talk to so that I don't fall asleep at the wheel,..”

“Hghn,..” She sceptically

“Agreed?” he prompted her.

“Hgrmmd”

“Excellent”

“Ow!” She said as the gag was, unceremoniously ripped off, removing half her face in the process

“Sorry” He said taking the sodden material from her mouth and discarding it at his feet.

“Couldn't be helped I suppose” She replied in a jaunty tone as she slowly massaged her jaw line.

“Don't get too comfortable. The moment you start to make a nuisance of yourself again this goes straight back on,..” He warned her holding up the roll of duct tape.

“Understood”

“Very good” he said restarting the car leaving her free to communicate.

“So,.. what would you like to talk about?” She asked as though exchanging small talk with a taxi driver.

“Anything you like” He said happily,..

The truth was that he was also bored and thought he might enjoy the company.
He'd never had a conversation with a police woman before, particularly such an attractive one,.. well at least none that didn't involve handcuffs,..
They talked for a while, swapping stories and telling anecdotes, until they found themselves drifting into something of a redundant intimacy.
Stevie even shared one of the other times she'd been kidnapped in the past,..

“So, you mean to tell me that you spent the entire night of your twenty first birthday bound and gagged in a bank vault?”
They were both laughing now.

“At least I'll remember where I was,.."

Throughout their conversation Stevie concentrated on trying to get a sense of where she was going. From the direction of the traffic it was clear they were leaving the city,..

“So, where are we going?” She finally asked, cutting rather to the point.
He looked over at her in the mirror. His eyes narrowed.

“I thought we agreed there was going to be 'no questions'?”

“Sorry” She found herself apologising “It's the uniform you see”

“Hmph!" He grunteddismisivly. "Have you ever considered enrolling on an escapology course. It sounds like you spend an awful lot of time getting tied up”

“Et tu Brute?” She said with a smile, “So, what's the money for? Drugs? A speedboat A solid gold Ferrari? "

“I'm insulted you think me so shallow"

“You're right of course. I shouldn't make assumptions about strangers simply because threy take me prisoner and have me trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey”

“Touché” He said grinning,.. "But, for all you know I could be on a mission from God to save a Catholic orphanage from a bunch of crooked property developers?”

“Really?!” She said with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to disguise the scepticism in her voice.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He asked.

“That you're on a divine mission to save your child hood home? No, I guess not” She said flashing a smile”

“Maybe, I was just bored?"

“Okay, well, maybe next time you want a consort for the evening, try bringing the girl some chocolates first,.. or a nice bunch of flowers,..

“Is that instead of the roll of duct tape?” He teased.

“Yes, definitely,. Also, and I want to really emphesise this point, do not try not to stuff a sock in your dates mouth when they talk too much,..”

“Should I be writing this all down?”

“Sarcasm, really is the lowest form of wit”

“Look, I'm not mad about this situation either, but trading insults will get us nowhere”

Their journey continued in silence for a few minutes before the car pulled off the highway and onto a side road. After a short drive the car slowed down on a deserted dirt track.
With the rain still pouring outside the crook seemed a little reluctant to leave the vehicle
“Doesn’t seem to be slowing much”

“What’s that?”

“The rain, it's really coming down”

“Uh, huh” Were the two of them really talking about the weather whilst she sat there tied up?
There followed a lengthy silence,..

“Well, no sense in us getting wet is there?”

“You won't hear any argument from me”

“Look I know it's really unprofessional, and it probably violates some criminal by-laws, but do you mind if I put the radio on?”

Stevie had no real objection to this, or at least she didn’t feel like wasting her breath voicing one,..
“Sure” she said happily

“Thanks" said excitedly flicking the dial like a child opening his presents on Christmas morning.

“Don't mention it” she said through gritted teeth.
The radio flickered slowly into life and soon the car was filled with a running commentary of a football match happening on the other side of London.
Stevie listened in silence for a moment.

"Are you okay back there? Not too uncomfortable?"

“That doesn't even begin to describe it,..”

“Are the ropes too tight?”

“I'd probably describe them as 'extremely efficient'"

“Thanks. I got a badge for my rope work when I was younger”

“It's no suprisre to me, although it is funny how many of the villains I encounter have a background in the scouts,.. must be all those knots you have to learn that produces so many psychopaths with ropes on the brain,..”

The final whistle blew signalling the end of the game.
The home side had triumphed three-nil.
“So what happens now?”

“I imagine the manager will get the sack in the morning”

“To me you idiot. To me”

“Oh, well, nothing yet,. why do you think it should?”

“Well, I only ask out of curiosity since in case you hadn’t noticed, I'm still tied up” she said wriggling provocatively in her ropes

“I hadn’t forgotten”

“Good”

“In fact I'm finding it hard to concentrate an anything else,..” He said flashing a lopsided grin.

“Look. Try and get some of that blood flowing back to your brain and think of a way to get me out of this mess”

“Sorry” he said trying and failing to suppress a laugh, “it's just,..well, its kind of a turn on”

“Not from where I'm sitting” She said, only half offended

“I'm sorry. You’re right of course,.. I've got business to attend to” he climbed out the car and opened the heavy wooden gate before opening her door and unlocking her seat belt

“We walk from here,..” he explained half helping/ half dragging her out the door the sports holdall laden with loose bills in his hand.
It was cold, bitterly so, and Stevie's shirt sleeves offered little protection against the biting wind
Still, at least the rain had stopped

The crook produced a small pocket knife causing WPC Harris to commence hopping in the other direction.
Dean watched her go, amusement playing across his face.
When she was more than fifteen feet away he called after her “Relax. You're in no danger,.. I pinky swear"

“That's remarkably easy for you to say, since your the one holding the knife” She shouted back, continuing to hop forwards.

“I take your point, but I was actually trying to cut you free”

“Really?” She asked excitedly.

“Scouts honour” He said his hand on heart.

“Okay” She said performing an awkward 180 until she was facing back the way she'd come.
Then, like a demented energy bunny she commenced hoping back towards the car,..

“There” he said when she finally arrived, cutting the scarf at her feet

“You're too kind” she said as her ankles broke apart from one another

“Actually, it was rather selfish of me really,.. we've got a bit of a walk and I just didn’t fancy carrying you all the way there,..”

“Perish the though,.. and my hands?” She said indicating her (still bound) wrists

“Sorry. They stay tied,.. for the moment at least”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying. I guess chivalry really is dead and lying in an unmarked grave just off the interstate”

Dean smiled and crossed himself “May it rest in peace”

Stevie looked around in a desperate attempt to work out where they were. The moon blinked through the dark storm clouds throwing silver dust across the field, the air was fresh against her cheeks and she blinked as spots of rain fell on her forehead

“I think perhaps we spoke too soon about the weather”

“Don't worry, we're nearly there,.. come on” he said indicating an old church-house.

They set off walking, Dean pushing the young police woman ahead of him.
Stevie glanced around, desperately trying to establish where she could possibly run to but immediately felt his grip tighten on her arm.
"Don't even think about it,.." he snarled.

They reached the side entrance of an old farmhouse adjoining the church. He struggled in the rain for a large loop of keys like a janitor opening the sports cupboard before finally unlocking the door and ushering her inside.
Stevie pondered why a convicted felon had the keys to a church property but decided that now was not the time to conduct a vigorous cross examination.
They entered a room piled high with an assortment of old junk that suggested it was employed mostly as a store room for a nearby stables.
At least Stevie hoped that all the metal devises were riding gear since some of the leather straps looked suspiciously like they belonged to a series of medieval torture devices.

“Okay dollface I've just got to run. Can I trust you not to do anything foolish?”

“Such as?”

“Oh, you know, try to escape, scream for help, that sort of thing,..”

“Of course not. Why, the mere thought hadn't even begun to speculate the merest possibility of entering my mind” She said, tongue buried in cheek.

“Relieved to hear it. So this is simply a precautionary matter,..” He said producing a man's handkerchief from his jeans.

Stevie stared daggers at him.

“Don't pout” He said grinning from ear to ear.

“I'm not pouting” She sulked.

“Don't worry,..” He said stretching the pale blue material over the lower half of the officers face “it's clean”
Stevie knew better than to resist and simply allowed him to tie the gag tight over her mouth.

Minutes later she was sat in the corner of the room where her feet were retied with heavy boating cord.
“There. All done” Dean said, staring appreciatively at her bound form. “I'll be back in a moment,..”
Silently Stevie raged as he left the room locking the door behind him.

Bound and gagged, Stevie sat in frustrated silence for almost an hour before she heard the door unlock.
Inexplicably the figure that emerged appeared to be dressed as a nun (habit and all)

“My goodness, are you okay?” The old woman asked as she stooped to unhook the Officers gag,

“I'm fine” Stevie said clearing her throat “but Sister, there's an armed criminal wandering around the grounds,..”

“Oh, you mean Dean?” She asked casually.

“You know him?”

“Oh yes Officer, he's an ex-pupil of ours”

“But he's a dangerous felon,..”

“Oh, no Dearie. He's a wonderful, caring soul. In fact, just this very evening he stopped by to make an extremely generous donation to the church fund”

“You mean he really was ripping off the mob to raise the money to pay your property taxes?”

“It would appear so, would it not?”

“But,.. But,.. but that money was obtained illegally” She stuttered, no longer sure of anything,..

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, from what I understand, the people playing in those card games are highly unlikely to report it stolen,..”
Stevie let that sink in for a moment.
Finally, deciding that now was not the time to debate morality with a member of the Church she changed tact

“Okay Sister, where is your mysterious benefactor?”

“Oh, I suspect he's long gone,..” Sister Mary said enigmatically “Now, would you like me to untie you or not?”
There was a pause

"I guess, although I'm really not looking forward to writing this up for my report,.."

[Deleted User 1591]

Wanda, you are fantastic as usual.

[MaxRoper]

Another well-told tale of a captive damsel. Humor! Ropes! Witty dialogue! What's not to like.

I'm curious where this takes place. There are hints it's in England (WPC is a sort of giveaway, innit?) and hints it's in the US (the existence of a freeway, the term "trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey").

The Blues Brothers connection is also excellent. Another question: When the gag was removed, how did Ms Harris manage to slowly massage her jawline while still tied up?

See? I'm paying attention.

I remain a huge Stiletto Amore fan (helpful in this weather). Please stop whatever else you do and write for us all the time.

[Deleted User 769]

Wanda, you are fantastic as usual.

“Why, thank you so much” she says blushing coquettishly,..

[Deleted User 769]

Another well-told tale of a captive damsel. Humor! Ropes! Witty dialogue! What's not to like.

I'm curious where this takes place. There are hints it's in England (WPC is a sort of giveaway, innit?) and hints it's in the US (the existence of a freeway, the term "trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey").

The Blues Brothers connection is also excellent. Another question: When the gag was removed, how did Ms Harris manage to slowly massage her jawline while still tied up?

See? I'm paying attention.

I remain a huge Stiletto Amore fan (helpful in this weather). Please stop whatever else you do and write for us all the time.

Hey there Maxroper, so glad you enjoyed my rambling tale of nuns, dames, ropes and lounge singers of questionable legal status,..

As regards the setting for Ms. Harris’s adventures, she is indeed a  Police Constable living in mainland England (the uniform being a dead giveaway) however the author grew up listening to Springsteen “Freeway” and living on a diet of trash TV from the States,.. hence cliched dialogue like “Thanksgiving Turkey”

Sorry, What Blues Brother’s connection?! Hehe!

I find it extremely heartening to learn that anyone reads these stories, let alone pays them close attention
In this instance when I was referring to our young heroine ‘massaging her jawline’ I simply meant that she was exercising the muscles in her jaw (after having her gag removed) I could, nay should, have made this clearer.

It’s lovely to meet a fan. Frankly I would love to write DID on a more regular basis (many of these tales were originally published elsewhere) however I have yet to find anyone misguided enough to pay me for my time.

Maybe I could branch out into writing commissioned pieces for those willing to pony up the dough,..? (I need to keep the lights on somehow)

Once again, thanks for reading and for all the kind words. It truly is much appreciated!