Betty Brady woke up naked and spread-eagled to the bed. She could still smell the chloroform about her face. Her five abductors had forced a cloth into her face before she passed out. She remembered now: she had been out on the trail of the Joey Frank gang, trying to tail them to their hideout, but they found her before she found them.
Her ankles and wrists were tied securely. She struggled, to try to get free, but they had done a very good job of securing her with nylon cords to the bed, and she only hurt herself when she struggled.
Betty had remembered hearing their words before they left. As a rookie cop she had been trained to observe everything that went on around her. She gathered by what they said that they had all left to arrange an exchange; Betty for Mack, a captured member of the gang.
She tried to recall all of the training she'd had in cadet school, to see if any of it would help her out of this predicament, but all she remembered was the police chief telling her that women were not cut out for police work, that it was not their place. "Get married and have kids!" the chief had told her emphatically.
Betty pulled hard at the cords again, angry at remembering his words, but the only thing that happened was that her round, pert tits jiggled wildly. She stopped pulling and looked down to watch her bouncing tits. Maybe being a woman doesn't help much in police work, she thought. Maybe I should have been a housewife. But she knew that police work was all that she'd ever thought about since getting out of high school.
She was becoming more conscious of being seized by a cold sort of fear. It started at the small of her back and crawled up her spine. Slowly she began to realize that it was not fear of dying at the hands of these depraved criminals, but fear of being raped by them.
Betty had been proud of keeping her virginity, even after growing up in the roughest part of Boston. She had been lucky to get into cadet school, but her scores on the tests had been so high that they couldn't afford to not take her, even though the chief didn't like women on the force.
That was where she had met Buddy Thane. He was a cadet too, strong, and emanating a virility that one could almost touch. Betty tried hard to not get caught by his sexy voice and his handsomeness, but she hadn't been successful. Now that she was tied and bound by the ruffians she thought back to that time with Buddy, and the gentle tone he had taken with her. She hadn't liked it at the time, in fact she had refused to have anything to do with him after that, even though he had made many advances to her. Betty felt sad and nostalgic.
"Can I take you home?" asked Buddy, knowing that it was the last weekend before graduating from cadet school, and that Betty would like to go home, and that she didn't have a car of her own.
Betty thought about it a while, mulling over the eight weeks of Buddy's overt advances. She thought that this wasn't like the rest of the times at all. "All right!" she said. "But I want to go right home. Do you know where I live?"
"No, but you can show me," he smiled.
Betty was surprised at how charming Buddy was as they drove along. He didn't even resort to his sexual jokes and puns in order to make her laugh. She was really charmed, but didn't know just how much. Even when he suggested that they stop at his place for a nightcap, she didn't mind.
When she was inside and Buddy was pouring her a drink, she suddenly realized where she was and what she was doing.
"Here's your Scotch," he said.
Betty was more apprehensive than ever now, Buddy was being so cool and debonair. She felt a twinge in her belly and thought that she was getting sick, but it was really the seed of passion itching at her cunt.
She drank the Scotch down in two gulps. "Can we go now?" she asked, showing a little fear in her quivering voice.
"Let me finish mine first," said Buddy. "I'm not quite the drinker you are."
Betty realized that it was going to her head now, because she was not a drinker, this being the first drink she'd had in over a month. Boldly she asked for another one, holding out her empty glass shakily.
"Are you sure?" asked Buddy, smiling at her with a twist to his handsome mouth.
"Ya, of course!" she said emphatically, trying to hide her uneasiness under a forceful gaze.
He brought back the drink and she gulped it again, not being able to finish it this time in two gulps. Her head was really spinning now and she was beginning to feel hot.
"Can I take off my jacket?" she asked, not realizing what she was doing.
"Sure!" said Buddy, moving closer to her on the overstuffed sofa.
He put his arm around her and she looked over at him with a silly grin. She had lost all of her fear of him with a little bit of Scotch, and she didn't even flinch when he put his arm about her shoulder.
Betty looked down at her drab blue cadet uniform and realized that her voluptuous body showed through the plain cut of the skirt and the bagginess of the light-blue blouse. She was momentarily ashamed, but as the alcohol began to work at her even more she passed into a calm where she didn't care what happened to her. And that feeling in her pussy was becoming more pleasurable the harder Buddy pulled her to him. She turned around and smiled at him.
She had always tried to diminish her sexuality; she realized that she had to, or thought that she had to, to compete in a man's world. Her efforts were paying off too – she was becoming a cop in a week. But her efforts hadn't been entirely successful – she was always being propositioned by other cadets, and some trainers. Buddy had been the most persistent, and his efforts seemed to be paying off. As he slipped his hand into her blouse, she didn't balk.
Betty felt the warmth of his strong hand cup her breast. She didn't immediately realize that he was feeling her up; she just concentrated on the wonderful warm feeling it brought. Then, as he squeezed her bra-covered nipple between the vise of his forefinger and thumb, she sobered up.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, leaning over and breathing her Scotch at him.
"Feeling you up," he said straightly.
"Really?" asked Betty, looking down and laughing as she saw his hand move about in her blouse.
Her mind raced through all of the self-defense that she'd been taught, but it didn't seem appropriate here. The warmth was really too good to stop it. She sat back and took another sip from her half-empty glass as Buddy started to breathe heavily on her silky neck. She tilted her head to give him more neck, not realizing what she was doing because it was such a nice feeling.
Then, as the soft skin of her throat was pulled into Buddy's passionate mouth, she knew what was happening. He's seducing me, she thought. The Scotch had had a great effect on her, and she couldn't activate her arms to push him away.
Buddy could see that she was becoming very drunk, and he was going to take advantage of it. He let go of her nipple with his left hand and slipped his hand up to her top button. His fingers worked quickly, unhindered by alcohol, for he had only sipped at his drink, knowing what it would do to him.
His fingers worked nimbly as the buttons flew open to his touch.
Betty was amazed, and she watched as her tits came into view, marveling at her own breasts.
She felt like she was in a dream, enacting some perverse fantasy that was buried deep inside of her. She smiled at Buddy, thinking that this couldn't possibly be real. But as her mind began to work against the effects of the Scotch and she began to realize that this really was real, she became confused, not understanding how she had gotten herself into a situation like this.
Buddy pulled open the blouse, revealing the firm globes of bra-covered flesh. He let out a long, low sigh and then reached around behind the young cadet cop, unfastening her cups with one easy motion.
As her breasts were released and she could see them jiggling, she started fighting, this being the first time she had ever allowed herself to be seen even partially naked by any man. She pushed at Buddy's strong arms, trying to get him away from her. But he had had the same training that she'd had, and he was quite a bit stronger. He just sat there, holding her, waiting for her to wear herself out and quit thrashing about like a wild animal.
Betty realized that all she was accomplishing by fighting the powerful cadet was making her tits bounce around. She could see the ripples of fatty tit-flesh shake. More embarrassed than ever, she tried even harder to get free, but the way Buddy was holding her made it seem like she was working against herself.
Suddenly she realized that the itch in her cunt that was making her fight so vigorously was passion. Even though it had been there before, gnawing at her composure, she had refused to recognize it as such. She realized that she was expending her sexual energies on fighting Buddy, and it was only serving to excite him.
Betty relaxed momentarily, and to her surprise Buddy let go of her arms.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," he said. "I was only trying to keep you from hurting yourself."
Betty wondered at his words. She was still drunk and confused. When no words came to her for reply, she slumped her tired body up against his arm. She didn't know it, but he was an experienced seducer, and this was exactly what he wanted.
Buddy put his arm back around her shoulder and slipped his left hand back to her breast. This time she thought nothing of it, having given herself over to his protective ministrations and kind gestures.
He let his hand push the fleshy globe up her chest, then allowed it to fall back into its firm roundness. Betty could feel her pink nipple tighten, and as she looked down, she could see that it had turned the color of a strawberry; she was amazed that it felt like the texture of a strawberry also. She had never seen it like that before. She had refused to masturbate, just as she had refused to lose her virginity, and she had never been sexually excited like she was right now.
She was sitting straight, and she was frightened, and her tit was being massaged by a strong man. She was really sobering up now, but she didn't want to start fighting him again. She would seem like a fool after he had been so kind to her. So she sat there and let her body be taken away by passion.
Everything in the room became clear as she tried to relax. She saw that Buddy had been careful in making it a romantic atmosphere; he had candles burning that flickered hypnotically, and low soft music playing in the distant background. It suddenly flashed through her that she wouldn't mind being fucked for the first time in a room like this. She even wished that every time she got fucked it would be in a soft, romantic atmosphere like this.
For the first time in her life she felt her clitoris becoming hard, the passion gnawing at it like a little flame. It made her forget what she had been thinking about before she began concentrating on the intensity of the feeling.
Buddy moved the bulk of his powerful body around in front of her so that he could place a kiss on Betty's tightened lips. She was still frightened, and she knew that Buddy could see it in her face. But he was the perfect gentleman not forcing, not pushing, just easing his body over hers, swallowing her fear with his gentleness.
As his mouth met hers and as his tongue flicked at the opening of her lips, she parted them, feeling the hot muscle ease its way to her teeth. It made her pretty head swirl with passion as the tongue pried her teeth open and began digging its way to the back of her mouth. As the turgid muscle darted around inside the cavern of her mouth, she imagined that his cock would soon be doing the same thing inside of her virginal cunt. She panicked a bit, and fought reluctantly to get away – the booze and the passion were working on her, telling her to let herself be fucked, telling her that it would be good.
His hand released her breast and moved down the corrugation of her ribs toward her belly. His fingers squeezed the resilient skin lightly, allowing it to bounce back each time it was pressed. Betty felt goose-bumps rise, and his hands felt hot.
Then his hand ventured down to the waistband of her skirt, his fingers lightly caressing the skin as he went. When he reached the band of cloth, Betty sucked in her breath, the roundness of her belly going flat. As soon as she did this, Buddy's hand slipped under her skirt, and then into the waistband of her panties. She felt the fingers dance about and then touch the top of her pubic hair, tickling it until she had to laugh out loud, playfully trying to push his hand away.
He persisted, his tongue still digging into her mouth, and his hand still pushing for her clitoris. She bucked and tossed, laughing around his tongue as his finger creeped down the top of her clitoral hood. As soon as her clit was touched, she sat very still. The heat was so intense that it made her drunk and giddy again, and she just sat there with her head bobbing back and forth.
As soon as her head cleared a little, she reached over to push him away again, but she accidentally reached for his crotch and pushed his turgid hard-on. She knew what she had touched as soon as she had done it, but she didn't pull her hand away until she had felt the length and breadth of his cock.
Buddy balked when she had first touched his prick, but then he pushed his hips up at her hand, groaning deeply. He sighed when she let go of his prick, then he dug his hand deeper along her slit. He brushed over her clitoris, and then backed up, pulling on her clit and stroking it with his agile fingertips.
Betty buckled under his ministrations, arching her back and forcing her pubic arch up into his hand. He released her mouth from his as she thrashed about. But this time she was writhing not to get away, but because she was becoming so impassioned.
She felt like she were really on fire, now that he was stroking her clit rhythmically. She could control herself, but didn't want to. She reached behind her and unsnapped her skirt.