Handcuffs | cuffs, policewoman, post | free bondage stories

I don't remember exactly how... after all it was way back in my student days, those days when I could lay a hand on a young lady and expect nothing worse than a slap across the face (that would be one of my unlucky or imprudent days, of course) ... ah, me... so long ago!

As I said, I no longer remember details except that I was snoozing in the shade of a large chestnut tree, just out of the reach of a blazing mid-afternoon sun on one of those ever wonderful days of the week - a Saturday. In a vague sort of way I gradually became aware of voices... female voices (what else would have disturbed me?) ... and they had presumably settled on the other side of my tree and were not aware of my presence.

From the excited chatter and leg-pulling that was going on, I gathered that they belonged to one of the careers groups and that this particular one was directed at girls who thought they might like to pursue a career in the Police Force. That put them at roughly my own age.

The topic that caught my attention however was that a policewoman attended the meetings to give them instruction in such things as the Law, when a police officer should back-off, when required to make an arrest, how to make an arrest... at the upcoming meeting that last was to include a practical demonstration of how to capture and handcuff a miscreant. Now, any such demonstration was likely to lead to girls getting themselves into restraints and my mind went into overdrive trying to work out a way that I might attend also. Alas, the only likely way that I could gain admittance was as a victim and THAT was not the scenario I envisaged.

Meetings took place on Tuesday evenings, when the gymnasium was altogether free, and that gave me three days in which to come up with a plan. For a starter I scouted the gym to see if there was a place I might hide. It was a big place with, along one short side, a raised platform with a rubber-softened edge and a long table and several chairs which accommodated officials on grand occasions. A balcony, with five rows of benches on which visitors might sit to watch the displays often given there, was built along one long side of the gym area. Beneath it was a walkway, off which opened various storerooms and changing rooms, and which was broken by a series of columns which took the weight of the balcony. During a meeting, such as the one on which I had designs, the observation area would not normally be lit and so possibly I could skulk undetected up there.

Thus, unwittingly, I set the scene for the most stupid and reckless prank of my career. Come Tuesday, dressed anonymously in jeans and the college football shirt and, with my ski mask in pocket, I ensconced myself long before the appointed time and settled down in the semi-darkness to await what may be. The girls arrived first in singles and twos and, in total, numbered eleven. At last came the policewoman and she proved to be a real dish. She was carrying a cardboard box which, I was to discover, held twenty pairs of handcuffs so I deduce now that the class was not as popular as she expected it to be. Must admit, in view of some of the highjinks I had seen, I too was surprised at the small turnout.

She got straight down to business and issued a pair of cuffs to every girl. Just cuffs however; the only keys were the one attached to her own issue and a spare whose whereabouts she did not reveal. She took them through the workings of the device, which most of them denied understanding, and then called them out one at a time to demonstrate their use.

That was the bit I really enjoyed because, as she demolished each one and moved on to the next, she did not release her victims and so the area soon became decorated with helpless damsels each with their hands locked behind. You must admit that, where developing girls are concerned, having their hands pulled behind them into cuffs does much for the male satisfaction.

When the last maiden was standing defenseless, she moved on to the next stage: "Now! You've all seen how it is done and you've all felt it happen to you. I am going to pair you off and leave you to practice on each other. As a police officer, you might of course have to subdue someone much bigger than yourself, or even a man, but here for the first time I want you to be as evenly matched as possible."

She went through them pairing them off and releasing their cuffs as she went but, by the time she got to the fifth pair, two girls were already back in irons. Leaving number eleven she crossed to release the prisoners and instructed them to repeat the exercise with roles reversed. Thus began a version of merry hell as girls whirled about all over the floor, some cuffed, some pursuing in an effort to cuff and the little policewoman frantically losing the battle to free them.

Soon however I thought I detected a drop in the numbers; I moved quickly downstairs to peer through the glass panel on an entrance door and saw that the bigger girls were ganging up on the smaller and cuffing them with their hands behind but around one of the support posts; one post already held two girls. Now, with five down and one more being processed by two, the remaining three were advancing on the instructress with very obvious mischievous intent.

I felt pretty confident that, if need arose, that little policewoman could take all three but she was a trained officer, she was in charge of this rookie class and she couldn't afford to hurt any of them. Her opponents had no such scruples but she was a great lady and was taking it in good part as she backed away seeking a place where they couldn't come at her altogether. But the two others, having secured their victim number-6 to a post, joined the fray to take her from behind. She went down with a "student" on each limb and the last one wielded handcuffs like confetti.

They locked her ankles together and then rolled her over on to her tummy with one sitting on her back. Her wrists were linked and her equipment belt removed... from which searching fingers soon found her spare handcuff key. Then with two sets of cuffs linked together they hogtie her and set her up like a prize exhibit in the centre of the long table up on the platform.

It was at this point that things started to get out of hand. The five survivors of the fray became infected with a desire to know who was top dog. They decided on a match, a knockout competition such as is sometimes seen in professional wrestling. They had ten pairs of cuffs left unused and each girl armed herself with two of them. Then began the dirtiest fight of the evening which, I have to confess I enjoyed tremendously. The helpless policewoman appealed in vain for a bit of common sense but she could have saved the breath.

It didn't take long. Two of them formed a temporary alliance and, between them, handcuffed two others together to form a circle around one of the posts. Number five spent that time trying to secure one of the allied pair but she was too slow - and a bit clumsy. She managed to get a handcuff on to the left wrist of one of the pair but then they both turned to dealing with her; in less time than it takes to tell she was wound round one of those posts with her right hand cuffed to her left ankle. The two conspirators made a great show of shaking hands with eyes fixed on the despairing losers but, with dastardly betrayal, the one without the cuff seized on that dangling ironware and gave it a mighty heave. She ought to have won the day but her opponent was too nimble, too wily; she kept her feet and whirled her attacker against the wall-bars to which, somewhat winded, she was swiftly cuffed.

And now came the opportunist. The victor in that scrap looked triumphantly at the vanquished spread untidily around her while she tugged idly at the cuff on her left wrist; it was as though she was at a loss to know what to do next. I guess you will not be surprised to learn that, by that time, I was in a high state of nervous excitement. The sole survivor was staring undecided at the unfortunate policewoman when I burst in through the door and caught her by the ankle. She almost went down but succeeded in taking her weight on both hands and I "wheelbarrowed" her the few yards to where a pair of cuffs lay discarded on the floor. Picking up the cuffs I steered her to one of those support posts and locked her ankles around it.

Now it was my turn to stand and look around me and what a sight there was to behold. A dozen young women all pretty much helpless. True, one of them was in tears, three were struggling in silence and utter futility to escape their steel bonds, two were appealing to me to help them get out, two seemed to be convulsed in laughter while the three remaining girls seemed to be stunned by events and were just standing beside their posts - perhaps they enjoyed bondage? The policewoman, helpless on her dais, was showing sign of frantic concern.

"Someone," I said, in what I hoped was a stern and reproving voice, has got to clean up this mess."

The hogtied lady on the table tried to assert her authority but I studiously ignored her. I began with the two girls shackled around the same post. A spare set of handcuffs linked them together and then I freed one of them from the post by releasing one hand. That was the start of my daisy chain.

Now you may think that I funked a fight with handcuffed girls but, apart from not wishing to cause hurt to any of them, you should realise that such a chance does not come every day to a young man with a healthy libido. Twelve young women were at my disposal and half a dozen pairs of unused handcuffs. Well?

One by one I put handcuffs on the ankles of posted girls, released one of their hands and coaxed them to approach the end of the daisy chain. By the time number six was attached I was able to take the end of that chain to the next participant. When I got to the luckless one that had been cuffed wrist to ankle, I was tempted to join her on by the feet but, after a moment's consideration, I decided that she might suffer involuntary splits. Soon I had a chorus line of eleven linked lovelies with each end wrapped around a post.

Which brought me to the irate police lady still struggling with infinite futility but kept under control by fear of falling from her table. "Young man," she began, "you really are... " but I silenced her with two fingers across her lips.

"This is MY show. But please take my word for it that nobody here is in any danger. I'm out for a bit of fun ... but that's all. The important thing now is for me to disappear without getting identified. And that's where you come in. I imagine that, as things stand, it's somewhat embarrassing for you? Hmmm?"

She remained silent but gave me what perhaps is best described as a wary look. "These idiots let things get out of hand and they deserve whatever comes to them but they treated you very badly. Not that I... me personally that is... don't appreciate you in this condition. You would look absolutely fabulous set up on my dining-room table. But, let's face it, it could spawn some mighty big difficulties."

I'll not attempt to describe the look that spread over her face. "Now. I'm going to get you out of that hogtie and let you stand on the floor. The keys to all this mayhem we'll leave in the middle of the table here while you accompany me outside. Then, while I make myself scarce, you can shuffle back in here, collect the keys and restore things to their proper order. Shame; it would be fun to watch your performance but I suppose that enough is enough."

I removed the cuffs that held her hands and feet together and lifted her to a sitting position. While she straightened out the creases I turned to the red-faced audience. "Ladies, I am about to bid you all farewell. I trust that, in future, you will show a little more respect and consideration for your visitors; a joke, a rag, a stunt can be all very well but you can take it too far... and tonight, some of you took it very much too far. Having said all that... this hypocrite thanks you for a most entertaining evening. Never was so much given by so many to such a few. Goodnight."

For safety's sake, I changed my mind and replaced the lady's ankle cuffs for a two-set hobble. Then, making the most of a chance to put my arm around her waist, I assisted her down the length of the gym and out through the doors. "It would be a shocking liberty to ask you for a kiss so... I'll just have to say goodnight."

Oddly enough I never heard another word about the entire episode. Who said that women can't help but gossip?