House Arrest, Home Invasion
The cell door
dragged open, much to my great delight. There I was - Jordyn Jaime Richard, a 20
year old secretary, convicted of falsifying company records and thus
jailed for 10 years. However, due to my good behaviour in prison so far, I was
to be given special treatment for a week and released to be locked
up, albeit instead in my own flat, under the watch of an officer. This
was a trial programme jointly sponsored by the Government and the local
council, especially campaigned by human rights groups.
"Richard, assume the position," came the order from one of the prison officers. I stood up and place my hands behind my back. The familiar feeling of handcuffs around my wrists came, and then my ankles were also locked with leg irons. As I was led out of the cell, I could hear the banging and pleads of my other inmates, calling through the heavy doors as I moved down the corridor. Screw them, I thought, none of them were ever kind to me in this rat hole and I was glad to be getting out from my four stone walls, albeit only for a week.
Finally, after I was marched across the prison yard, I was brought into a room. My restraints were removed and I was told to remove my prison uniform. Naked, the female guard gave me a full body pat down - this seemed ridiculous to me since there was nothing around the prison to hide on me. "You have five minutes to dress," she said and I was handed the clothes I wore when I was first brought in. They consisted of my black bikini panties and bra, a beige blouse, a blue skirt and sheer black pantyhose. Clipping on the bra, I realised just how much I had missed the feel of silk on my skin - the prison issued underwear was paper-like and so un-feminine. I then yanked up my undies, but they felt larger than before. That's prison food and life, I thought. My pantyhose was laddered in two parts, so I just tucked it in my skirt pocket - my legs needed a shave anyway.
"Assume the position again," the guard said as she walked in. I sighed as the handcuffs and leg irons were re-applied. Clearly, they did not want any escaping prisoners on this trial programme. After passing through some more doors and paperwork, I was seated in the back seat of a car, with iron grills separating the back seats from the driver's seat, and another iron grill separating one part of the back seat from another. Imprisoned all around, the vehicle jerked off. I would have wanted to look out the side window, but that was blackened out. Wonderful - but at least I was out.
It seemed as if no time had passed, but we were at the car park at the bottom of my apartment. It was in the evening and strangely, no one was about. That was probably good, since I did not want my neighbours to see me in metallic restraints, especially as they clanked as I walked into the lift, and then down the corridor to my place. "Nice place; I don't even get to stay in such furnished conditions," the female officer - Janet, she said her name was, remarked. Ever since I was incarcerated, my landlord had agreed to maintain my apartment for me and even take care of my plants, so nothing looked out of place as we walked in.
We entered the living room when suddenly a loud crashing sound could be heard. "What's that?" Janet asked and I shrugged, hoping it wasn't anything of mine damaged. "Stay here," she instructed as she pulled her gun out of her holster, and I gently balanced myself (since I was chained) next to the door frame, watching as my police escort moved in the direction of the noise.
The next part
was a huge shock - a large paw, or rather hand, clamped down on my lips
and a cold, circular metallic object was pressed against the back of my neck.
"Now," a deep male voice hissed into my ear, "I usually find
people on my visits, but not girls in chains. It’s refreshing - and
somewhat exciting. Anyway, the moment I
release my hand, you will not scream or a bullet will be planted in your
neck. Nod if you understand."
Still getting over this initial shock, I did so and the hand was gone. I could only muster a frantic "what..." when my nose was pinched, causing my mouth to gasp open. Something that tasted like silk was jammed inside. "Whmm..." I tried to force the object out with my tongue. Instead, a piece of tape appeared before my eyes and was plastered against my lips.
"Freeze! Drop the gun and let her go!" Janet appeared from the side, her two arms outstretched with her service revolver. "Aw, another gal," the intruder behind me said. He tightened his grip on me and the metallic object, definitely another gun, was further pressed against my neck. "You drop your gun officer; I'm sure you don't want a dead girl on your watch." I tensed up. This was supposed to be some form of freedom, not a day to face death. I looked at Janet, eyes wide open in fear and pleading. Please....
"You drop your gun!" Janet repeated, stepping closer.
"Officer, you're probably a good or bad shot,” the intruder said slowly and carefully.
number one about guns, you can't fire it unless it has been cocked. Now drop
yours." I heard Janet say the S word and she lowered her gun on the
ground. "Take it easy..." she said but was cut off as the cold circle
pressed harder into my neck. "Now,
Officer, kick the gun towards me. Then slowly, remove your service belt and
toss it towards me." I watched as Janet reluctantly followed the demands
and the pressure of the barrel was finally released. Thank goodness!
"Walk towards me, hands on your head," the intruder ordered my guard. Janet did so, moving in what seemed like slow motion as he released his grip. I was pushed down on the ground and the voice continued, "Stay there missy, let me deal with police girl first." Frightened, I did so, but my head turned to watch. "There's back....ummmmph!!!" Janet's mouth was also stuffed with something, which looked distinctively familiar. Tape, as it was in my case, sealed it in. She moaned and groaned as the intruder yanked her arms behind her back and secured them with what looked like zip ties. Janet's hose-covered ankles were similarly bound. "Nice outfit for an officer," the intruder, clad in all black including a mask, commented. This was just about a right description: Janet was in a regulation knee length blue skirt and black pantyhose, along with flat heeled shoes, but they fitted her really well, while her dark blue blouse was buttoned up to the scorn last button.
More zip ties around her elbows and knees, and then her arms and breasts secured the helpless prison officer. Finally, pushing Janet face down, the masked man turned to me. "So why has an officer of the law brought a beautiful girl like you in irons here? I want to know your case Miss. Your gag will come off, but no funny tricks." The gun was levelled at me. I nodded and was propped up to a sitting position. Slowly the tape came off and to my surprise, it was my silk panties that was used!
"Pe...ver..T," I stammered then stopped seeing the gun.
"Explain to me why you are handcuffed and chained and why Miss Police by your side is here."
I did so, summarising my case. "Interesting, Jordyn," he said, learning my name. "Unfortunate that I have to encounter not one but two - one inexperienced officer, and one inmate." That prompted a muffled groan from the bound and gagged Janet.
"And what are you here for?" I asked, sort of knowing the answer.
"To steal of course," he replied.
"There's nothing of value."
"Ah, I'll be the judge for that, Miss," he remarked. "Now, regretfully, you must remain in your cuffs, but I would prefer it if your ankles were tightly bound." I was pushed back down on the floor. Reaching into the utility belt, he found a set of keys and my leg irons came off. In their place came the dreaded zip ties which bit into my flesh. Then the same process for my ankles and then a long one wound around my arms and boobs, causing them to bulge out.
"Now, to re-gag you. Your panties look really soaked," he commented.
"Please, that was really perverted. Don't...." I felt him reach into my skirt pocket and out came the pantyhose I did not want to wear in the prison. "Well well - I was expecting to find a hanky, but this is perfect."
"Don't you...hemmmpph!!!" I had no choice as he balled up the pantyhose and pushed it into my mouth. This time, I felt a nauseous feeling - the hosiery had been in a sealed bag since the day I was incarcerated, and was almost certainly dirty.
With two pieces of tape sealing in, the man moved away, out of our sight. Immediately, Janet rolled over to me.
"Lmmmetrtmmgemmthmmtammoff," she spoke in gag speak, her bound wrists trying to feel around my face to undo the tape.
"Hemmmthammtickmmm," I replied. Loser of a prison girl, I thought, why didn't you cock your gun?
After ten minutes, Janet could only pry a small bit of the tape away. "Ah, I sort of guessed you girls may be trying that," the voice came. Janet was dragged back to her position, screaming through her gag as she was moved.
"Officer, you need to learn to really concede defeat," he said. The intruder had returned with a full sack. What items of mine did he take? That question was interrupted, however, as I watched him unbutton my guard's blouse.
"MMmmmmppph!!!", Janet shrieked as her beige bra came into view.
"Such nice boobies," I heard. Next, some rope appeared and Janet's bound wrists and ankles were lashed together in a hogtie. The officer as then picked up and carried away, and I lay still. I could hear the sounds of muffled screams from the bedroom, and it was left to my imagination what he was doing to her. In some ways, I was sorry, but in others I felt she deserved what was happening - every single second of it.
Minutes later, the intruder returned and picked me up, laying me on my side on the couch. "Not to worry, Jordyn, I'll inform someone about you,” he said as he pulled my ankles back and attached them to my cuffs with rope, before picking up his sack and waving at me. I heard the front door open and close, and wondered how long it would be before someone else came.
It was hours later when the police did arrive to free me and Janet. She was lying on my bed, her skirt pulled off and her bra straps pulled down to her shoulders. I was still allowed to stay in my flat, handcuffed almost 24/7, but with two rotating male officers. The last I heard, Janet resigned from her job. My stolen goods were only half recovered, but I learned a valuable lesson that day.
Never go off with your gun half cocked.