Officer Married, whose nameplate told me was actually Officer Klein, roughly pulled me off the ground and tossed me into the backseat. Behind her, Officer Burly struggled off the pavement, long scratches still oozing blood down his face. I smirked and licked my fingers and nails clean of his gore as Klein went to him and guided him back to the cruiser.
"Just sit down, Fortier, we'll get you fixed up when we get back to the precinct," she assured her partner.
He grunted and slid into the passenger seat. Klein's eyes, wide with concern, narrowed when she spotted me again in the backseat. "Maybe watch command will take a break when we get there...look the other way if you want a minute with her," she offered, voice dripping with condescension and threat.
"Only a minute," I pouted in response, "That's not much time for us to have fun. Certainly you could give him five minutes. Or ten? A girl needs a little foreplay, you know?"
Klein shot me a dirty look and slammed the door. As she walked to the other side, I leaned into the partition and whispered to Fortier, "She doesn't even know, does she?"
Fortier said nothing. I pressed further, "She has no idea how much it hurts you to see her with him. How much better you know you could make her feel."
"What are you talking about?" he mumbled, holding his face.
"I'm talking about how, every day, you come to work, see Officer Klein, and can't help but imagine you two together. And at night, how you grab your dick and stroke it to her Facebook pictures."
As Klein opened her door, Fortier turned slightly and barked back at me, "What the fuck are you talking about?!"
"Hey, just ignore her!" instructed Klein, smacking the mesh divide with the butt of her nightstick, "Sit the fuck back in your seat."
"Don't worry Officer Klein, your partner and I are just having a little chat about things we wish we could say."
Klein raised her eyebrows in Fortier's direction who only shrugged and avoided her gaze in response.
I pressed on, "Go ahead and tell her Fortier. Let her know."
"Shut up!" he snapped, then groaned, grabbing his face again. He mumbled to himself, "Fresh popcorn. Where is that popcorn?"
"What's going on?" Klein demanded of her partner, voice cracked by concern, "What's she talking about?"
"Oh, Fortier's a little too shy I guess," I teased, "Seems he has a little crush on his partner but doesn't feel like he can tell her."
"Wow...okay," Klein chuckled to herself, "You'll have to do a bit better than that if you want to distract us. Him attracted to me...honestly. Ridiculous."
I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. I could feel The Freedom radiating off me, spilling out of my pores, filling the cab with pheromones. In the front seat, Fortier still clutched his face and groaned quietly. Klein stole concerned glances over to him before finally pulling the car over and grabbing him.
"What is going on?" she demanded, pulling at his hands, "There's no way she got you bad enough for you to be making all that noise.
His hands fell away and she balked at the sight. Not only was it "not that bad," there was no visible scratches there anymore.
"Oh...wait...how? I saw you bleeding before. How are you—"
Klein looked distracted for a moment, visibly sniffing the air, before grabbing the wheel and pulling back into traffic, mumbling, "Swore I smelled french toast for a moment there." It was as though she had completely forgotten what she just saw.
Knowing that his being healed was a sign The Freedom was in his veins, I stepped up my assault.
"Mmmm," I moaned, shifting back and forth to hoist my dress higher on my thighs, "All this sexual tension's getting me hot. I don't suppose either of you would be willing to climb back here and...search me a little more extensively?"
I could practically hear the teeth grinding in the front seat.
"Or at least undo my cuffs so I can address certain needs on my own?" I followed up.
"Will you be quiet?" Klein grunted.
"Sure, sure, I can do that. I will do that, if Officer Fortier here would just nut up and confess his feelings."
"Don't feel well," he mumbled, slumped over in his seat.
"I know, I know," I cooed, "That's cuz you're holding on to so many secrets. Let it go...tell her how you feel."
"I told you, girl, that's not gonna work!" Klein barked, nerves starting to eat at her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but everything felt askew since they picked this crook up. She was anxious, but weirdly horny and every time the chick the backseat opened her mouth, Klein felt like vomiting or fucking, in equal measure. And then there was Fortier. Something about him. Something she saw. She knew she did. But...couldn't remember. What was it again? What...saw...hard to think.
"Klein...bees...bees in my head. Buzzing. Need...need to pullover. Oh....oh...not safe. So...danger."
"Shh...don't scare her," I whispered calmly, "What you have to say is beautiful. Let go of the shame and just tell her.
As I spoke, I worked my headcuffs. See, the thing that you need to know is that almost anyone can escape headcuffs if you can handle the pain of breaking your thumbs. And if you are currently afflicted with a disease/parasite/drug that converts nearly all sensation to pure pleasure, the idea of breaking your thumbs? Well, that's no problem at all, is it? You just need to find a way to do it.
"Klein," he groaned, "Pull over and run. Get help...not...not safe. Gonna...oh god...gonna make you scream, you nasty slut."
Klein was outraged but found herself rooted in place, hands on the wheels, eyes forward. Her entire body felt like weighted down. It seemed as though only her voice was under her control. The rest was frozen.
"Fortier, you better knock that shit off. Not sure what's going on with you, partner, but keep it together. Something's weird here, but we'll be at the station soon. Get rid of the perp in the back and get us some help. Just hold on."
"Tell her," I hissed.
Fortier gulped and thrashed and then spoke in a choked sob that steadily grew stronger and more clarion, "Love you so much, Sheila. So beautiful. Just...want to touch you all the time. Need to touch. I know you want it too."
"Come on, Fortier," she grumbled through gritted teeth, panic etched on her face, "Even if you mean that, now's not the time. Just hold on a few more minutes."
I worked my hands downward, keeping as quiet as I could while stretching every muscle and tendon in my arms and tightening all of them in my legs so I could swing my cuffed hands in front of me. Things popped and groaned throughout my body. I bit my lip hard as tears, hyperextensions, and aches set off tiny explosions of joy in me and then were immediately healed. I wanted to scream out, to tell them how good I felt, how wonderful The Freedom was, but I held back. Better they discover on their own.
Fortier shifted in his seat, releasing his seatbelt and moving closer. He started to speak again, "Can't stand the thought of you going home to him. He can't make you feel like I do. Mmm, Sheila, I'll make you feel so good. Remind you want it feels like to be with a real man."
"What's...what's wrong with your voice?" she muttered haltingly, still basically paralyzed.
"Nothing's wrong with it. I don't you think there is either," he replied, voice now fully filled with slick menace and the implication of dirty, unnatural sex acts, "I can see your nipples through your shirt. So hard. So anxious to catch my eye. You love my voice, don't you? That's what got your tits straining for my touch."
"Stop...Fortier...this isn't you. Isn't us. I'm married. You and my husband bowl together. You guys are great friends. You'd never do this."
"I'm sick of waiting, Sheryl. Waiting for you to catch on. Waiting for you to ditch him. I'm making this happen now."
He roughly pushed his body against hers, affixing his lips immediately to her neck. His hand skillfully opened each of the buttons on her shirt, proceeding with impressive speed. If he was in his right mind, maybe he would've marveled at how his usually clumsy fingers became so adept. Of course, if he was in his right mind, he'd probably know he had never lusted over his partner before now.
Klein groaned and I could see her straining to hold back from arching her back to more fully press her breast into her partner's callused hands. She whimpered to herself she did not want this and that something was wrong with her partner. She repeated it in a loop in her head, a mantra of resistance.
"Eric," she protested, "Stop. Just...hold on. A little while longer."
"Why should he?" I offered from the backseat, "Why should you? What's wrong with pleasure?"
"She's right," he agreed, nipping at her neck, "So stupid of us to hold off for so long. Could've been fucking behind his back for a year at least. Imagine us now, Sheila, making a fool of him. Me taking you in your marriage bed, him oblivious to it at his office. You going down on me while I talk to him about last night's game. Oh god, doesn't it just sound great."
She groaned again, louder this time, and I could tell the idea was in her head.
I jumped on the vulnerability, "Officer Klein, just imagine it. See yourself on your bed, head dropped over the edge, watching your husband barbecuing for all your friends and family while you are naked and spread, Officer Fortier above you. He helps you violate her wedding vows over and over again, just like you want him to. You, moaning, thrashing, urging him to go harder, faster, to make a mockery of the rings you wear."
I watched as she visibly seemed to try and shake what I was saying. Her hands tightened on the wheel, her face blushed, her skin began to prickle with a light mist of sweat. I imagined the images I spoke hanging on her like wet newspaper, clinging to her, enveloping her.
"It's okay," he soothed her, pulling one of her hands off the wheel and pushing it against his pants. Despite herself, I could see her lick her lips and arm move up and down, no doubt stroking her partner.
"God," she exclaimed in a ragged breath, "You're so hard."
"Mmmhmm, keep going, baby," he implored her.
She was sluggish but still resistant, "Can't Eric. Can't. You know that. Ma—married."
He dropped his head down and I could hear his lips affix to her nipple. Klein's head lolled slightly and she gasped in pleasure.
