This robbery is going great, you think to yourself. The bank guard, an old man, never noticed the interaction with the teller. The teller fills the bags fast after you hand her the note. You quickly turn from the counter and make for the door. This is where bad luck sets in. You bump into a large man walking in the door, slowing your exit. The teller yells, "Stop her, she just robbed the bank!". The stranger grabs your arm and pulls you down hard to the floor.
As he slams your body into the floor, you feel his weight through the knee in your back, holding you down. He grabs one of your wrists and pulls your arm behind your back. Just your luck to run into a hero. When you hear the handcuff noise and then feel the metal on your wrist you realize your luck has gone from bad to worse.
"You are under arrest", the deep voice says.
"Great, an off-duty cop", you think to yourself.
You fight to keep your second arm from being brought behind your back. He is so strong that he has no problem bending your arm behind you. With the second cuff on your wrist your arms are useless. You feel his knee come off your back as he stands up.
"Fuck you!" You say as he starts to reach down to lift you up.
He slides his foot forward between your legs slamming his foot hard into your pussy. You are thankful it was not a kick but the impact both hurt and felt good at the same time. You realize how excited you are by the whole situation. You were wet just from the idea of robbing the bank but now being manhandled by the cop is adding to it.
"Behave yourself'', he says as he grabs your hair and pulls you to your feet.
The bank manager walks over and thanks the officer for his timing and quick action. The officer says that he is going to take you in now and that he will be back later to do the paperwork. He pushes you out the door and to his car. You turn and try and kick him in the nuts. Your foot lands on the inside of his thigh as he twists slightly to deflect the kick. He reaches out with one of his big hands and grabs you by the neck, "You'll be sorry for that", he growls in your face.
Opening the door, he forces you into the back seat. The car smells of his aftershave. This strikes you as funny that with all the trouble you are in, that is what you notice. You shift to relieve the pressure on your arms against the back seat as he slides into the driver's seat. He starts the car and drives away from the bank.
As he drives through traffic you get a chance to really look at him. His hair is cut short, a nice dark brown. His beard is scruffy but cleanly shaped. You realize that he must also be well over 6 feet tall with the way he had to bend down to get in your face. His hands on the steering wheel show how big they are. He looks up at you in the rear view mirror with very green eyes. There is something in those eyes that make things low in your body go tight. There is also something that makes you look away.
As you start to look around you realize that you do not recognize the part of town you are in.
"This is not the way to the police station", you try and say it in a strong defiant voice, but with the tremor your voice has, it sounds weak to your own ears.
"Shut up'', he says in a low, deep voice.