The Penalty For Speeding

The car sped through the narrow country lanes. The driver, a man in his mid forties, threw the car enthusiastically into each turn and corner. He was enjoying the sunshine, the freedom of the open road.

He was on his way home; an unexpectedly early end to his business meeting meant that he would be home much sooner than usual, missing rush hour and surprising his wife. As he drove home he imagined walking in through the front door. She would be in the kitchen preparing supper perhaps. He would take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, she would respond eagerly. He would push her up against the kitchen counter and his hand would wander up under her skirt, between her legs. Her pussy would be damp as he pushed his fingers into her and she would gasp against his lips as he did so. When he felt her body relax against him, panting eagerly, her pussy tight around his hand, he would turn her round and bend her over the worktop. He would pull her skirt up and push her panties to one side, then he would unzip his trousers…
The car sped on down the road.

Suddenly he became aware of a car behind him, a second glance and he realised it was a police car.
“Damn”, he glanced down at his speedometer, the needle had crept up to eighty and he slammed on the brakes bringing it back down to a more legal sixty.
The car behind caught him up quickly, its lights came on as it settled down behind him and he realised that he had no choice but to pull over.
He stopped in a small muddy layby and the police car pulled up behind him. He wound down his window and waited.

A policewoman appeared at his window. Her face was pretty and she was petite, despite himself he smiled warmly at her.
“Do you know how fast you were going, Sir?” she asked him politely.
There was no point being difficult, she clearly knew exactly how fast and antagonising her wasn’t going to help him.
“About eighty officer” he replied equally politely.
She passed him a breathalyser through the window and instructed him in how to use it. He breathed into it without concern. He might be over caffeinated but it had been a serious meeting and he was stone cold sober. She seemed pleased when the result came back clear.
“Now there are two ways we can do this.” she told him. “I can fill in the paperwork here, and we can let the courts deal with you. There will almost certainly be a fine and points on your license. However if you prefer under the Road Traffic Act 2012 I am authorised to issue an immediate penalty notice and we can deal with your punishment right here with no further consequences to yourself. Which way would you prefer?”
He thought quickly. Points on his license would be inconvenient and going to court would be a hassle he didn’t need, surely it would be better to get this sorted out right now.

“Let’s deal with this now” he replied.
“Would you get out of the car please?” she was still polite but her tone was firm.
He got out and stood beside the car. Standing up he was a few inches taller than the police officer and he could admire the curve of her chest, her hips, her legs tantalisingly concealed by trousers. His gaze suddenly went back up to her hips; she carried the usual accoutrements on her belt, handcuffs, scissors, radio but what was that in front of her? His eyes lingered on the black strap-on she wore before he glanced back at her face.
She held out her hand to him. “Your car keys please”, nervously he handed them over.
“Wait here” she told him. She walked over to the police car and returned with a clipboard with a form clipped to it. She began writing, noting down the registration number of the car and asking him for his personal details which she filled in swiftly.
“Sign here”, she indicated the place, “to say you consent to having this matter dealt with here”.
He signed obediently.
“Now, stand in front of your car”, she instructed him, “Facing it”.
He did so nervously.
“Spread your legs, bend over the bonnet”.
She patted him down thoroughly, then left him there for a moment. Returning, she fastened a piece of black rope to one wrist and taking it round inside the car fastened the other one similarly. He pulled nervously against his bonds.
Next a slight rasping noise was heard. It took him a moment to realise what was happening as the policewoman calmly and efficiently cut his clothes from him, pulling them away and tossing them in a heap by his feet.
“No, please”, he tried to argue, “this is a good suit. I’ll take it off”.
But it was already too late. He was naked save for his shoes and socks, bent over the bonnet of his car, tied, helpless and he realised with a sudden shiver about to be violated in full view of the road and any passers-by.

Her hands were warm on his cooling skin as she parted his buttocks slightly. The strap-on was cold against his ass and felt far, far harder than he had thought. He moaned as she made the first thrust, entering him in a way he had never experienced before. He was begging her to stop as she pushed in further. His hands clawed against his once precious paint-work as his ass was filled with her strap-on, and she began to pound into him rhythmically. After a while he began to whimper softly, lying passively under her onslaught. He was only dimly aware of the hoot of a car horn as a passing driver saw what was being done to him. As her assault continued his body began to respond of its own volition and his hips moved back against her in time with her movements.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. He moaned again as the dildo was suddenly withdrawn. He did not move for a few moments until he was aware of the police officer untying one wrist.
“Sign here please, Sir”, she asked, “to confirm that the penalty has been carried out”.
He signed shakily, the spidery scrawl in striking contrast to the firm neat hand of his signature just above.
She swiftly untied the other wrist and gathered up the rope. Tearing off one copy of the form she handed it to him smiling pleasantly.
“Just show this to any officer if you are stopped on your way home today”, she told him.
He bent, stiffly, to gather up the rags which had once been his clothes.
“Thank you officer” he managed to stammer politely.
She held the car door for him as he got back into the driver’s seat and returned his car keys with another smile.
“Drive safely, Sir”.

Author: Caitlin

Geeky, kinky and poly. Discovering my Domme side. Sometimes NSFW and 18+.

6 thoughts on “The Penalty For Speeding”

    1. Yes, the risk of more speeding did occur to me. Still the police keep records on these penalties handed out, so if you offend to often I’ve no doubt this option is no longer available to you. Of course, there could be something worse… 😉

      Caitlin xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s