Ambushed In Her Office
By Wally Hammond
At 28, Rachel was the youngest sheriff in her state. She was also the first female sheriff in the state’s history, but as a staunch feminist she placed no emphasis on this, feeling that her gender was irrelevant. However, it did not seem irrelevant to the press. Some papers lauded her election as a triumph for sexual equality; others (to her great annoyance) made much of her undoubted beauty and excellent figure. Yet others belittled her, arguing that as a woman and a young one at that she could not possibly be up to the job. She knew that the last group were spurred on by her predecessor, whom she had defeated in a landslide. He was a bad loser and had hinted that he had friends who would prove that she was unfit for the job. Rachel of course ignored such talk and got on with her job.
One day, Rachel was sitting at her desk, dealing with a huge pile of paperwork. She looked up sharply as her office door flew open. Why don’t people knock? She was ready to make an annoyed comment, but she froze in horror at what she saw. Two men, their faces hidden by hoods, were walking in. Both had rifles pointing at her.
“What do you want,” she said, no doubt sounding a lot less confident than she wanted to be.
“We’re just doing a film shoot starring you, sheriff,” replied one of them smoothly. “And I do suggest that you co-operate, or there might be some other type of shooting. Now, be a good girl and put your hands on the top of your head, with your fingers tightly meshed together.”
Rachel reluctantly complied with this order. Two more hooded men emerged from behind them. One was holding what looked like a video camera, and like the rifles it was trained on her. The other man went over to her desk and, kneeling under it, quickly snapped manacles on her ankles and on her thighs just above her knees.
“Now, sheriff, stand up, keeping your hands on your head,” ordered the first man. Rachel stood up slowly and cautiously. It was quite difficult, without using her hands and with her legs fastened together.
Turning to the man who had manacled her, the first man told him to get Rachel’s gun, handcuffs and badge, and to handcuff Rachel’s hands behind her back, which he did. A fifth man, also hooded, entered and joined him. The newcomer ratcheted the handcuffs as tight as he could, so that they pressed painfully on her wrists.
Rachel had begun to recover, and she tried to assert her authority. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you’re committing very serious criminal offences –” she began. Her speech was cut short when the fifth man started stuffing a rag into her mouth. The other man with her held her still as the rag was pushed in until it filled her mouth and her cheeks bulged. It tasted absolutely awful, and Rachel nearly choked. Once it was in, the fifth man produced a ball gag, and shoved the ball into Rachel’s already full mouth. The ball was large, and her jaw was forced painfully wide until the ball was fully in and her teeth closed together slightly, trapping the ball. This forced the rag in even more deeply. The gag straps were pulled tight and buckled behind her head. No way could she force the gag out now, and she was silenced very effectively.
“That’s much better, sheriff,” said the first man. “You’re only supposed to have a non-speaking role in this film.” Rachel realised with horror that this was all being filmed. “And now,” he continued, “you’re just a touch overdressed for your role. Fix that, boys.”
One of the men next to her held her. The other produced a pair of shears and cut the sleeve of her jacket from the cuff up to her shoulder and then continued the cut to the collar. She was helpless as he did the same to her other sleeve. The remains of the garment fell to the floor.
“Bring her in front of the desk”, ordered the first man. The two men lifted her up and carried her round the desk, ignoring her futile struggles and even more futile mfffs through the very effective gag. They stood her in front of her desk. The man who had cut off her jacket took the shears again and cut through her belt in two places, then pulled the remains out of the belt loops. Clearly, there was no need for that; he could have just unbuckled the belt. But he wanted to humiliate her as much as possible.
Fresh humiliation soon followed as he cut through the waistband of her skirt and down to the hem, rather than just unzipping the skirt. The garment joined the jacket and belt on the floor. The men all whistled appreciatively as this revealed that Rachel was wearing stockings with lacy tops. “Really sexy, sheriff, this will look great in the film,” said the first man. “Carry on, boys.”
Rachel seethed impotently as her blouse suffered the same fate as her jacket. After cuts up both sleeves, it joined everything else on the floor. There were more appreciative whistles as her matching black satin lace-trimmed bra, garter belt and tight bikini briefs were revealed. “Lovely lingerie,” purred the first man. “Seems a shame to remove it, but we must all make sacrifices for the sake of art.” Stepping forward, he took the shears from the other man. He sliced through the front of the bra between the cups, and then cut the shoulder straps. The bra dropped off, revealing Rachel’s pert breasts in all their glory, which produced fresh whistles. He stepped aside. “Got that on film?” The man with the camera nodded.
The men holding her then pressed her elbows together, managing to force them to touch, and tied thin hard cord tightly around her elbows to keep them touching. The cord dug in painfully, and her shoulders were pulled back, putting them under strain. Her breasts stuck out quite a bit more.
Then the first man stepped forward again. He put a thumb on each side of the waistband of Rachel’s black satin bikini briefs and pushed them down until they reached the manacles above her knees. He stepped aside again. The men laughed as they saw that she was partly shaved between her legs, leaving just a landing strip. Rachel was now blushing furiously.
“Now, sheriff, you’ve been a very naughty little girl, wearing all this sexy underwear, and you deserve a spanking, doesn’t she boys?” The others all nodded. Rachel was turned around and bent over her desk, displaying her bare bottom to the men and the camera. “Six spanks, sheriff?” Rachel mfffed angrily. “What was that, twelve? If that’s what you want, I’m happy to oblige.”
Rachel writhed furiously in the grip of the men who held her as the spanks rained down hard. Finally, the man stopped. “OK, that’s twelve. Is that enough, sheriff?” Rachel decided that silence was the best course. She could not see how her bottom had turned a bright rosy red, but she could certainly feel how sore it was.
“Well, that’s that, sheriff,” said the first man. We’ll let you sit down now. In fact, we won’t let you stand up.” He pulled over a wooden armchair and Rachel was forced to sit down. Her arms were trapped between her back and the back of the chair, and her hands were uncomfortably under her bottom. Ropes went tightly around her and the chair back, above and below her breasts and round her slim waist, pinioning her onto the chair. Someone cut her briefs off. Her legs were freed, and then each was draped over an arm of the chair, spreading her thighs very wide apart and exposing her completely. Ropes around the chair arms and around her thighs just above her knees held her legs in position. Her shoes were removed. A rope around each ankle and passed under the seat held her feet firmly in place. A hood was pulled over her head, blindfolding her completely.
Rachel started as she felt a hand between her legs, rubbing her. Her shock and outrage boiled over as she felt first one and then two fingers slip inside her. She bucked as hard as she could against her unyielding bonds. The chair shook, but the men held it so that it did not fall over. Despite her outrage, Rachel could not avoid the effects of biology. Within a short time, she felt herself getting excited. Her body's betrayal revolted her, but she could do absolutely nothing to prevent it. Soon she was uttering muffled moans of pleasurable excitement through her gag as his fingers caressed her. She barely managed to hold back a sob as she shuddered at the unwanted sensations surging through her body.
“Oh my, you’re a really naughty little girl, sheriff,” came the voice of the first man. “And you’re so tight. I’m really tempted to do more, but there’s no time. Just a few last touches though, sheriff,” he continued. “We’ll take your gun of course but you need to keep your badge as a sign of your authority; we’ll hang it on you.” This was clearly a piece of humiliating sarcasm.
She felt herself being lifted into the air. The chair was put on the desk, with something under one of its legs so the chair rocked if she moved. “Now, don’t move around and struggle too much, or you’ll crash off the desk and hurt yourself,” someone explained.
Suddenly, there was a terrible pain in her left nipple. Her startled reaction nearly made the chair fall over. The same happened to her other nipple, but this time she managed to keep still. “Your badge is suspended from your nipple clamps,” explained the first man. “Now, we have a film to send to a few reporters. So long, sheriff.”
Rachel heard them leave, closing the door behind them, leaving her utterly humiliated, helpless and exposed.