Cuffed And Gagged

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Cuffed And Gagged
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Claire Cuffed and Gagged Published: Sep 25, 2018
added in a gag to this scene in REmake2 since i felt it would be a nice feature.
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WPC Drummond was expecting a stress -free
day at the hospital, for a change. But it wasn't long before she was
It was the day
when WPC Harriet Drummond had been searching an empty house, and been captured by
Mrs. McKinnon and her bodyguard. Sgt Eric Forsyth, coming through the door from
the kitchen alone, was greeted by a rear view of WPC Drummond, her
underwear-clad bottom exposed, her arms taped behind her back, her hands
cuffed, strapped face down to a heavy coffee table. As he closed the door, she turned
her head toward him. He saw then that her eyes and mouth were covered with more
strips of tape.
She struggled
ineffectually against the tapes. " mmmph !
nngggrrkk ! dd sssmmkk !"
she grunted. But she was trussed up so well that she could hardly move, and she
couldn't see him. She had been left as an unwilling present for him. He stopped
to think. He suddenly had a huge erection. It was a fantasy
come true. She was blindfolded and couldn't see him, didn't know who was
in the room with her. He locked the door, then walked back
to her. Crouching next to her, he pulled her skirt up higher, then took hold of the waistband of her tights and panties. He
used both hands to pull her panties and tights down over her thighs, then ran his hands over her naked bottom. He gave her a smack,
across both cheeks, then another, harder, then another. He felt her tense up, in
anticipation of the next slap. Enough of that, he thought. He started to unzip
his fly.
The image was
suddenly dispelled by a loud ringing sound. The telephone! It was only a dream,
and a disappointed Eric looked up, a guilty look on his face. He was slumped over
a desk, resting his head on his forearms. Just a catnap, but this one had included
his favourite recurring dream.
He reached for
the phone. His heart sank as he listened to WPC Pauline Sharpe. Bad news, she had
arrived at St. Margaret’s Hospital to relieve WPC Drummond, guarding a patient.
She had found an empty room, no patient and no WPC. History repeating itself, a
small voice inside him said.
"St.
Margaret’s Hospital.
There's trouble". Sergeant Eric Forsyth addressed the three male and two
female police officers. "That woman from the crash, the
one who can't remember anything. She's gone missing. And that's not all".

"Wasn't
Harriet watching her?" asked WPC Sally Stevens.
PC Wayne Kerr
grinned."What happened. Was she so engrossed in
her book that the woman sneaked out?"
"The bad
news is that WPC Drummond is not, well, let’s say she
is incommunicado at the moment. Her hat, her phone and a paperback were found,
but she is not there. And a handcuff key, which is bad news".
"On past
form, Harriet's trussed up in a cupboard somewhere, that
seems to be her specialty." PC Kerr quipped.
"Not
funny". Sergeant Forsyth looked serious. "Right now a colleague is
missing along with a suspect. Let’s get to it".    
On arrival at
the hospital, Sergeant Forsyth and his team had been met by a trio of uniformed
security men, who had explained that there had been a fresh development. Now,
with WPC Sally Stevens, he sat in a small meeting room. Seated opposite him was
a buxom middle-aged woman with back brushed chestnut hair and large brown eyes.
He didn't know the various ranks in the hospital hierarchy, but she wore a
uniform, a royal blue dress with a crisp white collar and white cuffs on the
half length sleeves. On her dress, just above her right breast, she wore a
laminated badge which read "Jayne Griffith. Supervisor ".Her face was
still tear-stained and red indentations were beginning to show on her wrists.
Better get
started, Eric Forsyth thought."Tell us what happened, Jayne. Do you mind
if I call you Jayne?"
She couldn't
wait to tell him, she had been trying to explain to the security staff, but
they had all told her to wait for the police, and to give them a full
statement. "I had been up in admin, complaining about not getting the
stuff I requisitioned . They gave me lots of excuses
and tried to fob me off, it’s all the fault of the
suppliers, that sort of thing. They did at least have a box of bandages that
should have been sent down to me, so I took them. My bad luck as it turns out,
that's what I got tied up with! Anyway, I got in the lift and there were three
people in scrubs. Crooks, must have been up to
something, but I didn't know that. They had a laundry trolley though, and that
caught my eye. I mean, only the cleaning staff should use them. I asked them
what they were doing, but I wasn't expecting what happened then. One of them
grabbed me round the arms and clapped his hand over my mouth and one of the
others, a woman, waved a syringe in my face and threatened to inject me if I
gave them any trouble. There were three of them you see, so I didn't have much
choice but to let them do what they wanted. They took me out of the lift at the
next floor, at least two of them did. The woman was very nifty with the bandages, she tied a knot in it and shoved it in my mouth,
then knotted it behind my neck. Next thing, she ties my hands behind my back,
real tight, and they frogmarch me down the corridor. They opened the utility
store, where the cleaners keep their stuff, sat me down on the floor and tied
my feet. They spoke for a minute in a language I didn't know, pointing at me,
then the man pushed me over on my front and pulled my feet up toward my bottom
and tied them to my hands. Then, of all the nerve, he gave my gave my bum a few
slaps and said he'd like to spend more time with me." Forsyth noticed with
some interest that she was blushing as she told the tale. He tried not to visualize
the scene, an erection would be so inappropriate when interviewing a victim.
Jayne
continued her story."I wriggled around and tried to make a noise, but
there was sod-all I could do, tied up like that and gagged too. Why did they do
it? I wonder what they were doing with the basket in the lift"
"We
think you were not the only person to be attacked by these people" Eric
Forsyth spoke. "Did you see a female police officer at all?"
"No"
replied Jayne, "well, only that one who was sitting outside a ward
earlier"
"Yes,
that one" he was suddenly interested " have
you seen her anywhere? Anywhere else, not sitting outside the ward, I
mean"
"Why,
no. Is she missing
then? Do you think she's been grabbed by them, same as I was? Perhaps she's
tied up in a cupboard somewhere. What do you think is going on here? Something big?"
Eric Forsyth
tried to banish the image of a bound and gagged WPC Harriet Drummond from his
mind. "How long were you in the cupboard?" he asked.
"Seemed
like forever" said Jayne "but probable just over an hour, couldn't
see my watch with my hands tied behind me. That new cleaner, Ellie, found me. I
shouldn't say this, but she's not the sharpest knife in the draw. She opened
the door, saw me, started screaming and ran away, came back a few minutes later
with Bob".
"He's
the site services supervisor. I really wish it hadn't been him. Oh, sure, he
untied me, but he made a meal of it, leering at me, helping me to sit up, and
pretending he couldn't get my hands undone. I think the whole thing was a big
treat for him"
"We'll
need to interview him” said Eric Forsyth.
The man in
the green scrubs had walked up and down the hospital corridor three times, and
twice he had gone inside the ward. The woman inside had either been asleep or
was pretending to be, but either way was all right, for now. The main thing was
that she wasn't under very close surveillance. One policewoman, that was all.
Three times he had passed the attractive, full-figured, blue eyed brunette, in
her uniform of white blouse with sleeves rolled-up , navy blue skirt and tie,
with honey-coloured tights and black lace-up shoes. She had looked up and
smiled at him the second time he passed, but he had not reciprocated, walking
straight into the ward without a word, and leaving thirty seconds later. He
noticed two things as he passed, both of these were
just visible on her belt as she sat suddenly more upright as she noticed him.
There was a phone of some sort, and a pair of handcuffs. She was definitely a
policewoman, and it wouldn't be quite so easy to remove the amnesia patient,
who was one of his partners in crime, from the hospital with her on guard.
Certainly they could deal with her, but it would no longer be a simple matter
of walking out of the place. By the time he had joined his two female
accomplices, who were both dressed like him (courtesy of a local fancy dress
hire shop ) he had decided on a plan of action.
This should
have been a cushy assignment, WPC Harriet Drummond thought to herself . No unoccupied houses that were once the property
of criminals, no gun-runners, no bank robbers to capture her. All she had to do
was to sit outside the small ward that was occupied only by the mystery woman,
and prevent her from leaving the hospital.
The woman who
had been rescued from the wrecked car had been unconscious, and on her
recovery, appeared to be suffering from amnesia . She
was being kept in hospital for her own good, under police guard because she had
questions to answer, once she remembered who she was.
Harriet had
spent an uneventful hour sitting outside the ward, reading the paperback
thriller while observing the coming and going of medical staff in various
different uniforms. One of them, a man in green, some kind of medical
protective clothing with a little mask covering the lower part of his face,
passed by twice. She hadn't paid any attention to him, and now she knew that
had been a mistake. If she had stopped him, asked questions, she wouldn't be in
this mess now.
She hadn't realized
it at the time, but the man in green was carrying out reconnaissance on behalf
of a team, who she was soon going to meet.
When the man
passed a second time, she looked up and smiled because she had already seen him
once, and after all they were both here to do a job, as she assumed. She was
mildly annoyed when he didn't return the gesture. Things like that undermined
her confidence. Her male colleagues thought of her as attractive, but when she
looked in the mirror she saw a round-faced, rosy cheeked woman. She had a fear
of looking like a farmer’s wife as she got older. The jaw-length bob and the
eye make-up didn't hide that, she feared. So when the man returned after about
twenty minutes, with two women who were presumably hospital staff, she made a
point of not looking up. She did notice that one of the women was pushing one
of those big laundry baskets on wheels, something that she had seen before in
hospitals. Perhaps they were going to change the bed-sheets. She was somewhat surprised when five minutes
later one of the women came to the doorway and spoke politely to her.
"Excuse
me, sergeant " she began."There is something
here that you should see. Something suspicious"
Harriet had
been addressed as sergeant before, by people who wanted to ingratiate themselves
with her. It didn't fool her, but it was better than " Oi ,
copper! ". "What is it?" she replied,
trying to sound helpful but hoping she wouldn't have to get up from her chair.
 "The patient.
She's gone" she said after a moment of hesitation. Harriet folded the page
over and closed her book. Please let this be a mistake, she thought. How could
she be gone. The only way out was through the window.
She got to her feet and followed the woman into the room.
To her dismay
she saw that the bed was indeed empty. 
"See" said the woman. As Harriet turned to look round the
ward, she heard the ward door closing and became aware, too late, of sudden
movement behind her. A hood of some sort was dropped over her head and pulled down
over her shoulders ,while a pair of strong hands
gripped her upper arms and pulled them back.
A male voice,
it had to be the man in green who had ignored her, whispered "You just
keep still, keep your mouth shut. I've got a needle here, it will put you to
sleep and when you wake up you'll be an addict. Don't want that, do you?"
"No"
muttered Harriet desperately. She didn't want that, but she guessed that the
alternative was going to be some kind of restraint. She wasn't wrong. Hands
were removing her phone and her handcuffs from her belt .On the first few times
when she had been caught by criminals, she had found
herself wearing her own handcuffs. Because of that she had taken to hiding them
when she sensed a dangerous situation was developing. It hadn't helped, on
those occasions the villains had tied her up with whatever else was available.
The end result had always the same: she was found by her colleagues, disheveled , perspiring, embarrassed, embarrassed at being
discovered bound, helpless and slightly aroused. Once any danger had passed she always found herself getting turned on by her
predicament, and she hoped that her rescuers didn't notice this. She wondered
who was going to find her this time. Stop thinking like this, she told herself
as the unseen assailant forced her hands behind her back and closed the
handcuffs over them. She was just wondering what would happen next when she was
suddenly propelled forward and forced face downwards on to the bed. Now
something was being wound tightly round her ankles, four times she counted,
before it was knotted.
"Now
what? we can't leave her here, someone else could find her as soon
as we've gone" a female voice, sounding panicky.
"Don't
worry, I know my way round this place, remember. We hide her. Put her in that
basket, that why we brought it ". 
This time it was the man who spoke."She can go to the top floor,
there's only storage up there nowadays. She'll get loose and raise the alarm,
but it'll take her a while. And with her missing, hopefully the cops will waste
time looking for her, not chasing us. ".
"Like we
care anyway " said another female voice.
"She's a cop, they never did me any
favours".
"You
should care. If she turns up dead, we all get a life sentence. You got to
remember that sort of thing if you work with us. Anyway, the poor cow's just
doing her job, she only got in our way. You can take
the rest of the day off, wouldn't you like that? " 
Harriet knew
he was talking to her now, but she didn't know he expected an answer. "You
might at least thank me" he continued. "Perhaps you've forgotten your
manners".
Harriet
guessed the way things were going and cried "Thank you very much" her
voice muffled by the pillowcase over her head. It was too late, she realized as
she felt him sit on the bed. He delivered a hard slap to her upturned bottom.
She bucked against the handcuffs and wailed " please
don't ".
"Please
don't what? I can't hear you clearly " he gave
her bottom another smack.
" Oww " cried Harriet. "Thank you for giving me the
day off. Please don't spank me anymore". She was really gritting her
teeth, wishing she could throttle him for making her feel like a naughty
schoolgirl.
"Come
on" said another female voice."We need to get out of here, you can have your fun on your own time. Get her in the
basket, let’s get her out of the way then go"
The man
muttered something which Harriet couldn't make out. A moment later, she felt
herself being lifted from the bed by two people, one holding her shoulders, the
other grabbing her legs at the knees. She was lowered unceremoniously into the
big laundry basket, dumped in a half sitting, half kneeling position.
"Better gag her, hadn't we, do the job properly" said one of them.
Harriet felt some fingers lifting the pillowcase , but
not removing it altogether. Someone was unfastening her tie and pulling it away , without unbuttoning her shirt collar. "Open your
mouth " a female voice ordered. She obeyed
meekly, she didn't have any options. Resistance, even just a show of sulking,
might lead to more bottom-smacking.
She knew what
came next. A knot had been tied in the middle of her tie, this was pushed into
her mouth, then it was pulled tight and the two ends were knotted at the back
of her neck. Finally the pillowcase was pulled back down and the lid was
replaced. Now she couldn't hear much, though her captors were. having an animated conversation.
She was aware
of the basket being wheeled along, and she felt herself almost falling over as
it was taken round corners. She struggled into a sitting position and drew her
knees up to her chest. To her surprise the lid was lifted. One of the women,
the one who had said “She’s a cop", said threateningly "keep still,
cop, it could get a lot worse". She took note and didn't move any more. It
certainly could be worse. They hadn't blindfolded her properly, she, wasn't
hogtied or anything like that. She hadn't been spanked really hard, she hadn't been
groped. She knew from her previous encounters with criminals how much worse it
could get. She just hoped they didn't have any more plans for her.
She knew she
was somewhere in the hospital. The wheeled laundry basket, with her inside it,
had been trundled out of the ward and along a corridor. She had heard voices as
her captors passed various hospital employees. Harriet had been ordered to keep
quiet, and mindful of the hypodermic needle, she had obeyed the order. so none of these people knew that the basket contained a
captive policewoman, handcuffed and hooded.
There had
been one interruption to Harriet's uncomfortable journey, and though she could
only listen from inside the basket, she could guess what had happened. They had
got into a lift, but after ascending one floor it had stopped and someone had
got in. Then she heard a voice, a middle-aged woman with a welsh accent.
"What
are you doing with a laundry basket" she demanded in an officious tone. " Don't you know the MMMPH " and the next thing
that Harriet heard was struggles and muffled squeals and protests. The lift
stopped, it sounded as if two of her captors had got out, presumably with the
Welsh lady as their prisoner . Her basket prison
continued upwards with only one of the gang accompanying it, but when it was
eventually wheeled out, many floors higher, the unseen captor waited for the
other two to fol
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