Police Officer Falls Into a Trap (MF/M)

[DesertFox]

It was a boring day on patrol.

My speed trap had garnered me exactly zero tickets, and I still had five hours left in my shift.The radio was silent, and I was simply driving around at this point.

I sighed to myself and fiddled with the radio while I drove down a side street, then, all of a sudden, I saw something a little odd. A local mechanic's shop had it's garage door wide open, but it was a Sunday, a day on which this particular business was closed. I pulled in to the lot and considered calling it in on my radio, but, considering it was only slightly out-of-the-ordinary, I decided I would just knock on the door. For all I knew, the owner was just in that day filling out paperwork. A cleaning crew could have come by. Before I started hailing anybody on the radio, I wanted to verify that there was even something unusual going on. If a door had simply been eft open and I called it in when it was nothing, I'd never hear the end of it.

Still, as a cop, you have to record where you are for your shift notes that you turn in at the end of every day. I took out my notebook and jotted down the address, then checked my Black G-Shock for the time at which I arrived. I shut off my squad car and got out, then approached the building.

"Hello?" I called out. "Is anybody there?"

Nothing but silence answered me, though I thought I heard some footsteps from inside. It could easily have been my imagination, though.

I entered the mechanic's shop and took a cursory glance around - nothing unusual stood out. I moved towards the office to see if there was an employee inside; he or she could easily have had headphones on and not heard when I called out.

I knocked on the door, then started to pull it open when, suddenly, a woman stepped out and leveled a gun at me! I opened my mouth to yell when, from behind me, a huge hand clapped over my mouth, instantly muffled my shout. An arm wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and ensuring that I couldn't reach anything on my belt. I thrashed around briefly before realizing that I still had a gun pointed at me; I decided to just try and calm down so that I could make it out of this situation alive. Still, as I breathed heavily through my nose above the tight handgag, I couldn't stop my heart from thumping in my chest in a frantic rhythm.

"Get him inside," the woman told her accomplice. He grunted and pushed me forward. "We're going to have to tie him up." I groaned into the hand over my mouth as I was roughly pushed down into the wood-backed chair in the office. The woman stood in front of me, still holding the gun steadily and pointing it at my chest.

"Don't make a sound, and don't move," she told me. "Understand?" I nodded in affirmation and the hand came off of my mouth. My arms were pulled behind me and forced through the wooden slats at the back of the chair, then I was handcuffed using my own cuffs. They were tightened brutally and I grunted softly.

"Shut up," the woman said. She handed the man a roll of duct tape and said, "make sure he doesn't get out of that chair." The huge man started ripping tape off the roll and taped each of my ankles to their respective chair legs, then my thighs to the seat. He wrapped turn after turn of tape around my waist and shoulders, pinning my back to the chair. I was divested of my baton, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, gun, car keys and radio.

"Did you called headquarters and tell them where you were," the woman asked. "Don't you dare lie to me." I shook my head resignedly.

"That was dumb of you," she replied. She then handed the man a filthy rag. "Gag him and let's finish getting ready out there. And bring his car into the garage and shut the door." She stalked out as the main moved behind me once more.

"Open up, pig," the man said. I had no choice - I was going to be gagged as well. I opened my mouth and the man stuffed the rag in my mouth. I instantly identified an incredibly strong taste of grease, sweat and oil. It was revolting, and the rag filled up my entire mouth. My cheeks were bulging and my tongue was pressed firmly down.

I thought the man was done, but I heard the sound of ripping tape again and one end was pressed on my cheek. He began wrapping the tape incredibly tightly around my head. After going around 7 or 8 times, he tore off the end and pressed it firmly down near the back of my head, then moved around to my front again. He pressed the tape against my mouth to make sure it was firmly in place, which was entirely redundant, given how tight it was.

"Alright, try and talk," he said to me. I raised an eyebrow at him and half-grunted, half-groaned into the gag. The combination of the thick stuffing and the tight tape made any intelligible sound impossible, and I seriously doubted that the muffled sounds I could make would be heard even outside the office, much less the street.

The man seemed satisfied and turned to leave the room, taking my gear with him. He closed and locked the door behind him.

I tested my bonds for a second, but I was welded tightly to the chair. I craned my neck up and down and to each side to see if I could dislodge the tape but, if anything, it just got tighter. I looked up and caught my reflection in the mirror at the other end of the office. There I was, in my black uniform, pinned to a wooden chair by yards of gray duct tape. My cheeks were red and bulged above my gag, and the tape was wrapped so tightly you could nearly see the piece of rag that was protruding from my lips.

Shit, I thought to myself. I'm really in it now.

[KidnappedCowboy]

[mention]DesertFox[/mention]...

Omigod, you ticked all my boxes:

1. A cop who forgets one vital rule of being a cop.

2. A burglar(s) getting the drop on an unsuspecting cop.

3. A cop cuffed with his own cuffs.

4. Tape-gagged cop!!!

5. I'm gay and prefer M/M TUGs, but that female burglar was the take charge type, so that'll tick a box.

6. Bound & Gagged cop left helpless and hopeless!

[Kackesh5]

great story, would love a part 2

[jone123]

good story,please continue

plus, it would be nice if you add more description to how the burglars look like

[harveygasson]

Great start hope you keep going

[DesertFox]

Haha [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] , I'm glad you like it. As a straight switch I either like tying up girls or being tied up by them, but I'd be lying if I said I'd never gotten turned on by the thought of being kidnapped by whatever gender happens to overpower me.

[Rtj65]

I really enjoyed how this was described, a great scenario and I loved the predicament that the cop ended up in!

[Ducttapeenthusiast]

This is so hot. A great start to the story, I'd love to read more.

[privateandrews]

Nothing better than a cop getting bound and gagged.

[DesertFox]

For the next hour, my life was hell.

I didn’t try to struggle too strenuously or loudly for fear that the burglars would hear me from the next room, but I couldn’t help twisting my wrists and throwing my body back and forth to test the strength of my bonds. Despite knowing exactly how tight and inescapable properly applied handcuffs are, I continued to try and move my wrists back and forth and pull them free of the bracelets that were fastened brutally tightly around my wrists.

The tape around my body was similarly tight and unyielding. Having so many turns of duct tape fastening me to the chair ensured that I could hardly move my body, much less stand up or move meaningfully.

The most stifling part of my restraints was undoubtedly my gag. I had a massive shop rag stuffed in my mouth, which fully filled it and made my cheeks bulge out, pressing my tongue to the base of my mouth and flooding it with the taste of dirt, oil and sweat. Turn after turn of duct tape was wound over my lips and around my head, turning the entire lower half of my face into a layer of smooth, tight plastic and ensuring I couldn’t make a sound. I’d tried to let out a few shouts when I couldn’t hear my captors moving around in the garage, but the pathetic grunts that emerged from underneath the tape seemed more than useless, and when the man who had so thoroughly tied me to the chair opened the door to check on me, I decided that I should minimize any noise I made, just for my own sake.

After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped struggling and sat still, breathing heavily into my gag. Attempting to escape from being tied up is surprisingly strenuous, but I was determined not to simply give up without a fight. Twisting my head and wrists, I managed to check the time on the face of my watch. It was only 4:45pm currently, and any sort of hope for help seemed like it would be a long time coming.

My shift had started at 8am and I was officially on patrol until 8pm - I had walked into the garage around 3, was promptly ambushed, tied and gagged by 3:15pm, and left in the windowless office at the back of the mechanic’s garage for the past hour and a half, stewing on the mistakes that landed me in such a helpless position. If only I had kept dispatch aware of where I was. If only I had called someone - anyone - just to update them on my shift before entering the garage, I’d have a vague hope of someone at the station notice that I was missing prior to the end of my shift. There was a long four hours left ahead of me, because at this point I’d accepted that I wasn’t going to get out of my bonds any time soon.

Suddenly, as I was ruing my mistakes and glancing at my watch every few minutes, counting down the hours until someone came to release me, the door to the office opened and the two burglars entered the room.

The first thing they did was toss something plastic on the floor. It took my eyes a minute to focus on what they had thrown before I recognized the black, credit-card sized transponder that was housed in the engine compartment of my squad car. I groaned into my gag as the woman stomped on it with her boot, shattering it instantly.

“Yeah, dumbass - did you think we didn’t know that there was a way they were tracking your patrol cars?” She shook her head at me in disdain. “Even for a cop, you’re an idiot.”

“Now,” she said as her accomplice, a heavily-muscled man in a black tracksuit, moved behind me. “We have some questions for you. Basic shit, but if you start to shout when we remove that gag then we don’t have any problem taking care of you permanently and then leaving. Do you understand?”

I grunted into my gag and nodded my head. She nodded at her partner and he began to unwrap the tape from around my head. It hurt quite a bit as it pulled at my hair, but I was grateful that it was coming out regardless. After the tape was fully unwound and dropped to the floor, the man gripped his hand over my mouth and stopped my from spitting out the rag.

“Remember,” he growled from behind me. “Not a sound.” I nodded again and he took his hand off my face, allowing me to spit out the now sopping wet rag onto my lap and breathe my first unrestricted air since I had been captured. I remained quiet; this was maybe the most danger I’ve been in so far.

“First things first,” the woman began. “When does your patrol end?”

“8pm,” I answered. “If I’m not back at the station by 8:30, they’re going to co-hhhmph!” My answer was cut off abruptly as the man clapped his massive hand over my mouth.

“We didn’t ask for your fucking commentary,” the woman growled at me. “We just need simple answers.” I grunted that I understood and the man removed his hand from my mouth.

“Did you really not radio dispatch and tell them where you were,” the woman continued.

I answered grudgingly that she was correct. I’d made a massive mistake and ignored one of the most basic rules of safety to protect my ego.

“Goddamn, that was stupid of you. Listen, here’s the situation. We’re pretty much finished here - the catalytic converters are out of the cars, the safe is empty and everything valuable is packed away. Unfortunately for you,” she continued as the man suddenly handgagged me again, “we are stashing them quite a ways away; in fact, we’ll be driving until the early morning. And since you’ve seen our faces and your shift ends this evening, that means we are taking you with us until we can stash you somewhere for the long term and be sure we’re safe.”

I instantly started pleading with her from under the man’s hand. There were countless reasons I didn’t want them to abduct me or take me elsewhere. Statistically, if you live through the initial capture and aren’t taken to a second location, you’ll survive a given ordeal like the one I was in. The odds were much worse for you if you were transported to a second location. More simply, I assumed that I would be remaining tied up, and likely gagged, for the foreseeable future, and I desperately wanted to avoid being kept in that miserable state.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to plead my case or try to reason with my captors. After listening to me plead under her partner’s palm for several seconds, the woman rolled her eyes at me and nodded to her accomplice again. Suddenly, the hand was removed from my mouth, but in my rush to try and plead with my captors, my mouth was left open and the shop rag, now wet with my spit, was shoved back in my mouth. The man took his time stuffing it in my mouth, making sure it was full and forcing my lips closed.

Unfortunately for me, the woman tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“He’s loud and we’ve got a drive coming up. Make sure he’s extra quiet.” I heard the man chuckle darkly as his hand was removed his hand over my mouth and a second rag was shoved in to my already well-packed mouth. Thankfully it was slightly smaller, but he still had to pack my cheeks full and, at the end of the process, a piece of dark blue cloth was poking out of my lips.

I made a muffled sound through the thick packing as I heard the sound of duct tape being ripped off a roll behind me. The first few layers were wrapped between my lips, forming a sort of thick cleave gag. The man continued to wrap my head in duct tape brutally tightly until it was covered with a full 12 layers of tape. I caught a glance at my reflection in the mirror - the imprint of my open mouth was visible under the layers of tape where it was wrapped between my lips.

“Hmmmmph,” I groaned through the tape. I was well and truly silenced, and evidently the woman was satisfied, giving me a small, cocky smile as she meet my eyes. She walked up to me and pressed her hands against the tape covering my mouth, which was completely redundant.

“Sit tight, pig. We’ll be back for you in a minute or two.”

The burglars both left the room and closed the door behind them. I grunted into my new, even more stifling gag as the door closed and was completely disheartened at the pathetic, muffled sound I made.

Knowing this was my last chance, I struggled fiercely against the tape binding me to the chair, but to no avail. The handcuffs were similarly inescapable and my gag was so thick and stifling that I didn’t even try to yell, but when I twisted my neck in an effort to dislodge the tape over my mouth I didn’t feel it move even a little.

I twisted my head to see my watch again, hoping against hope that my shift was nearly over and someone might notice my absence. My heart sunk when I saw that it was barely after 5pm. Even if I had stayed locked in the room, it would be well over three hours before my absence would be noticed.

After a few minutes, the door opened again and the two burglars entered the room. Without ceremony, the woman stood in front of me and leveled the gun at me. I remained deathly still as the man moved behind me and released the handcuffs, then moved my arms directly behind my back and cuffed them again. He took a large pocket knife from his belt and began cutting me free of the tape holding me to the chair. I didn’t dare move for fear of the gun pointed at me, and I remained still as he moved around to the front of me and tightly taped my ankles together. He moved on to my calves, then above my knees. I grunted into the gag as he moved behind me to wind tape around my upper body, above and below my pecs.

The woman handed him a handful of thick, heavy duty zip ties and he cinched one around my ankles, over the tape, and another around my wrists, holding them much tighter together than the handcuffs would normally allow.

Finally, after I was thoroughly bound, he, seemingly with little effort, lifted me over his shoulder and carried me into the garage itself.

Though the doors were closed and the light through the few small windows was very scarce, I saw a number of cars with open hoods and several parts clearly missing from their engine blocks. My police cruiser was tucked in at the back, behind several cars and covered with a thick tarp so that only the bottom of the side was visible.

The man tossed me into a panel van that stood with its rear doors open. I landed on a thin blanket and saw, in the gloom around me, dozens of vehicle parts and a partially-opened duffel bag full of money, all secured to the walls of the van with leather straps. The van doors were slammed shut behind me as I rolled onto my side in a vain effort to get comfortable.

While the man raised the garage doors, the woman started the engine before climbing into the back of the van. She took two thick cable ties and threaded them through the zip ties binding my ankles and hands before cinching them tight, hogtying me with only a few inches of slack between my ankles and wrists. I groaned into my gag as she finished cinching the zipties. I saw her throw a plastic shopping bag on the floor of the van and take out a thick roll of duct tape.

“I got us a fresh one,” she leaned in and whispered before adding more wraps of tape to what already covered my mouth.

“Pmmph nmmmph mmmph!” Please, no more!

The tape wrapped around my face was so tight I could feel it digging into my cheeks and jaw. The additional layers seemed completely unnecessary to me, but she just audibly laughed as she tightly added three more.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to ruin this job for us by running your fat mouth. I even got something for you - check it out!”

She propped a small mirror by my head where I could see my own face. The layers of tape wound around my jaw cut deeply into my cheeks, which bulged considerably over the top of the gag. The tape was wound so tightly the imprint of both my open mouth and the small piece of rag protruding from it were visibly outlined. I lay my head down on the blanket, feeling an acute rush of shame that I had landed myself in this situation just via overconfidence and ignoring procedures.

“Let’s have a nice, quiet trip,” the woman said to me as the climbed over me and into the driver’s seat, where she started the engine and started reversing out of the garage.

At this point, my only concern was time: if the station happened to notice I was missing, would they send a car to where I checked in last? Would they notice distinct tire tracks and a robbed office? As the van started to turn onto the street outside the mechanics, I rolled around futilely and testing my bonds, which were more than tight enough to prevent me from escaping. I caught a glimpse of my watch in the small mirror - it was only 5:30pm. The woman had implied they would be driving into the late into the evening, and I was stuck in the back of a van, hogtied tightly and with a thick gag taped into my mouth.

It was going to be a very long night.

________

Author’s Note: I had forgotten this story was around, but I always had plans to continue it! I hope everyone enjoys it - there’s more to come!

[privateandrews]

always love a story with trussed and gagged cops,

[Caesar73]

Excellent next Chapter!

[DesertFox]

Time seemed to pass at a snail's pace. I was thoroughly hogtied and heavily gagged in the back of a panel van as the burglars who had captured me drove out of the city. They seemed so intent on traveling inconspicuously that, to my police officer's eye, I felt like I would note something odd about the way their van moved, but apparently no one on the street was the wiser. That, of course, was assuming that another cop was out and about - not only was the back of the van devoid of windows, the hogtie ensured I would have never been able to see the street.

For the first several minutes of the ride, I stayed calm and still, hoping my captors would focus on driving and quit worrying about me trying to escape. Indeed, after around half an hour had elapsed, the man in the passenger seat had quit turning around to check on me and seemed content at focusing on navigating for the woman who was driving.

I gave a muffled grunt into my gag as I tried to test the strength of the zipties hogtying me. There was less than three inches of space between my handcuffed wrists and taped ankles, and the industrial-strength cable ties fastening them together resisted any attempts at breaking them. The layers of duct tape wrapped around my ankles, calves and thighs was so tight that I had no hope of finding any slack there as well. The handcuffs were fastened brutally tightly around my wrists, not to mention the additional ziptie which glued my hands together, palm to palm. After almost an hour of testing my bonds, I resigned myself to the fact that I didn't have any chance of escaping.

I groaned into my thick, stifling gag from the intense discomfort. Two large shop rags had been shoved into my mouth, thoroughly muffling any sound I might have wanted to make. Though there was virtually no chance I would have been able to expel the stuffing on my own, my captors (whom I was beginning to consider as kidnappers) had taken no chances and wrapped layer after layer of duct tape over my mouth and around the back of my head, turning the lower half of my face into a smooth surface of taut plastic. The stuffing was so large I couldn't close my lips, and the tape was so tightly wrapped that I could see the imprint of my slightly-open mouth underneath the dozen layers covering my jaw.

In short, I was very much in deep shit.

The next two hours passed at a snail's pace. The female captor, who seemed to be the brains behind the operation, had unintentionally given me a slight advantage by propping a small mirror against the wall of the panel van. She had placed it there to shame me into accepting how helpless I'd been rendered (and it had very successfully proven that point), but it also allowed me to keep an eye on my watch's reflection, so I was able to keep track of time. After several hours of driving, I assumed that we must be well over a hundred miles outside the city where I served as a police officer, but I knew that, if I didn't report back to the station after my shift's end at 8:30pm, the authorities would take my disappearance very seriously and might expand the search to neighboring cities if they thought I had been abducted. Cops tend to take care of their own, and I held on to a vague hope that I may make it out of this situation relatively unscathed.

For the time being, however, I was basically at my captor's mercy. As the minutes turned into hours and 7:30pm came and went, I felt dismal and alone in the back of the van. At some point during the trip, my kidnappers had pulled over and changed drivers, and the woman was much more watchful and cautious than the man had been. She glanced back at me every so often, giving me the opportunity to make muffled pleading sounds into my gag, which she answered by rolling her eyes or shaking her head.

After an eternity of travel, I noticed that they were pulling off of the highway, then into a smaller neighborhood. My watch read 8pm - we'd been in the van for almost three hours. The van slowed to a stop and I heard a garage door opening, then my kidnappers drove in and closed the door behind them.

The woman handed the man the roll of duct tape and muttered "take care of him" as she turned off the engine and left the vehicle. The man climbed out as well and walked to the back of the van, opening the doors to see my thoroughly bound body. I felt more than heard him approach as he clambered in the back of the van and shoved a thin canvas sack over my head - I panicked momentarily until I realized that it was actually quite easy to breathe through.

The now-familiar sound of ripping duct tape preceded several layers being wrapped around my head and over my eyes, ensuring I wouldn't be able to shake the bag from my head, before another few layers went over my gagged mouth. The zipties hogtying me were cut and I was hoisted over the man's shoulder with only the slightest hint of effort from him. I again tried to plead for my release through the gag, which was answered by a growling "quiet, asshole - you only have yourself to blame for this." The part that stung most was that he was right.

I felt, rather than saw, being carried through the threshold of a door into a smaller room before being hoisted higher over the man's shoulder as he went down a set of stairs, into what I presumed was the basement. I was thrown down onto the ground and groaned into the gag in discomfort as I heard another set of footsteps walking down.

"The gun is leveled at you currently, officer. I suggest you stay very still," I heard the woman say, her voice oddly loud in the quiet air of the basement. I complied immediately, of course.

"Roll onto your stomach."

After I did as I was told, I felt a large pair of hands pat down my body, searching me for any hidden tools or devices I may have carried. Fortunately for them, they had been quite thorough already and there wasn't anything else to find. I felt my hands and feet being forced together as I was harshly hogtied again before every zip tie was tightened even further. After the heavier footsteps walked around to face me, the tape wrapped around my head that was holding the sack in place was ripped off, then the sack was removed from my head as well.

I blinked several times, feeling thoroughly disoriented. I was in a dim basement with low ceilings and a few bare bulbs stuck in plain housings on the ceilings, throwing very little light into the room. The floor was concrete and the only other features of the room were two steel support pillars, a fireplace that hadn't been used in ages and several years' worth of dust. Two small windows, set high into the corners of the ceiling and covered thoroughly in dirt and grime, were the only views of the outside world and revealed nothing except the concrete steps to the house and a lawn that hadn't been mowed properly in weeks - the sky showed just the last hints of sunset.

"We won't be here too long - we just need to get gas and unload some of the merchandise, but couldn't risk you ruining things from the back of the van," the woman said. "People who fence stolen valuables are surprisingly worried if you abduct anyone, much less a cop. But don't get comfortable - we'll be back on the road in less than an hour."

Both of them left the room and shut the basement door tightly before going up the stairs. I moaned into my gag as I lay my head on the floor. I felt defeated, but wasn't absolutely sure I was out of options...

As if on cue, my gaze caught on an old, rusted poker discarded next to the fireplace. My heart started racing in nervousness and anticipation - this may be my only shot, so I had to make it count.

It wouldn't do me any good just to cut my bonds, then be overpowered and tied up even more harshly before being driven away again. I wasn't getting out of the door without being noticed, I realized; the garage door had opened and the van had driven off, but there was still the sound of footsteps on the floor above me, so one of my captors had stayed behind, presumably. The windows were set too high in the wall to climb out of, assuming they were big enough, or even unlocked, for that matter. My best option would be to try and shout for help, I decided.

After counting off a few minutes in my head, I struggled over to the wall near the fireplace. The hogtie had made my shoulders ache, not to mention the tight grip of the handcuffs and ziptie around my wrists, but, inch by inch, I eventually made it, breathing heavily through my nose from the effort. I was in decent shape, but staying tied and gagged for hours is unexpectedly exhausting.

As I turned on my side to grab the fire poker, it dawned on me that I wouldn't even be able to cut my wrists free. Even freed from the zipties, there wasn't a way I was going to cut myself free of handcuffs. I groaned in frustration before coming up with a new plan: I would use the sharp edge of the poker to cut through the tape around my mouth.

I settled back on my stomach before turning my head to the right and moving my head up and down to saw the sharper edge of the poker against the tape.

After what seemed like hours but was more likely just a few minutes, I felt the glue on my jaw loosen slightly as the tape began to fray apart.

My heart began to race, but I thought it might stop when I saw two pairs of black shoes walk up the front steps of the house before a loud knock at the door rang out, and a voice called out "Glenwood Police Department, please open the door."

'Glenwood? We aren't as far as I thought!

Regardless, I renewed my efforts with a frenzy. I heard the woman's footsteps walk to the front door and open it before low murmurs told me she was conversing with the police, presumably about an officer who had gone missing. I began to get desperate as a minute or so passed, but finally felt the tape split along my cheek. I quickly turned my head again to rub the lose edge on the rough flooring and felt the last layer of tape peel away from my lips.

As soon as there was an opportunity, I began to work my jaw to expel the stuffing that was still lodged into my mouth. Thankfully, over the course of the past several hours, the rags in my mouth had absorbed enough saliva that they had shrunk and softened considerably, so what had been an overwhelming amount of fabric a few hours ago was much more manageable. Still, I heard the door close as the last bit of rag fell from my mouth and saw through the mirror the two pairs of shoes turning away from the door to leave.

I opened my mouth in a deep gasp of air before shouting, but was overwhelmed by how dry my throat was - my first effort was little more than a whisper, but the fresh air caused me to start salivating enough where I was able to yell.

At that moment, to my overwhelming bad luck, a very loud truck, possibly a delivery or the garbage pickup, came onto the street at the neighbor's house and idled at the curb.

"HELPPP! THEY HAVE ME IN THE BASEMENT!"

My voice sounded deafeningly loud in the quiet basement, but I realized that, between the walls of the basement and the sound of the truck outside, the two officers couldn't hear me as the pairs of shoes vanished from sight. I was still yelling in desperation when I heard a set of feet running down the stairs.

The door burst open as the woman who had abducted me rushed into the room, gazing at me with wide, shocked eyes. The surprise quickly turned to rage as she thundered towards me and sat firmly on my back, nearly knocking the air out of me.

"No, listen I'm sor-mmmmmphh! Hmmmmph!"

As I opened my mouth to protest, my words were cut short as a huge sponge was stuffed into my mouth, instantly expanding and filling my cheeks while muffling my voice. A slender hand wrapped around my face, the palm covering my mouth and holding the sponge inside as I heard the woman unbuckle the belt from her waist. I was still begging into the gag as the thin leather belt was tightly wrapped twice around my head and between my teeth before being knotted and buckled at the back of my neck, forming a brutally tight cleave gag that ensured I couldn't spit the sponge out. Though I didn't feel quite as stifled as I had with the tape wrapped around my head, the size of the sponge and the tough leather wrapped extra tightly around my head and digging into my lips proved to be an entirely different type of miserable.

"You're going to fucking regret that move, officer, I promise you that," she leaned in to say. I felt goosebumps break out along my arms; I believed her. She gripped my chin, lifting my face from the floor as the checked that the belt was cinched tight between my teeth and not moving. I felt relief as she untied the knotted leather from around the back of my head and felt the belt loosen, only to have her tighten it considerably more after wrapping it around my head again - I suppose she wanted to make sure she hadn't been too hasty earlier in her rush to gag me. She double knotted it this time and I actually felt my head lift off the floor from the pressure of her pulling backwards before she judged it sufficiently tight and let go.

I continued moaning into my new gag, not quite as silencing as the last but even more painful, as she left the basement and stomped upstairs, making a point to leave the door to the basement open. I shook my head and worked my jaw, but had no chance of dislodging the gag.

'I'm really in deep shit now.'

[privateandrews]

love this story, cops getting kidnapped excite me allot . cant wait for more.