Long Stop

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A surprising stop on a long drive.
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There were few things Cara liked more than driving at ridiculous speeds with dance music playing loud, especially after a long and stressful day. And it has been an exceptionally long and stressful day. Normally she went home first but it was after eight by the time she finally left the office, exhausted and yet wired. She had several invitations for drinks but her nerves were raw and shot and a public place was the last thing she wanted. When she thought of unwinding her stress at high speed along the hard curves of the narrow, hill-threading roads on the west side she felt a thrill and new she had to do that before anything else, before home and shower, before drinks, before phone calls, before anything. She pulled the convertible top down, tossed her jacket and shoes in the trunk, pulled the pins out of her hair to let it flow free, and jumped in. Before she was even out of the parking lot she was doing forty, drawing disapproving grimaces from the security guards and a few other people staggering to their cars. She laughed at them as her hair whipped her face and took a screeching turn out of the lot.

It was only a few miles of normal streets before she could be at one of her favorite roads. There was nearly a twenty-mile stretch of sharp corners and long, straight runs, with a beautiful bridge and several places where the road hugged steep, craggy cliffs, and very few places for cops to hide. Just a couple of turns before she hit the road she wanted she stopped at a light beside a car with three college boys. They were elbowing each other and gawking at her. She turned and looked the front passenger in the eyes as she reached down and undid the top three buttons of her blouse, revealing very little skin but all the same driving the boys into a howling frenzy. When the light turned green she mashed the gas hard and left them so far behind they weren't even in her mirror after a few more blocks.

At last she reached the final turn and took it so fast she could hear her tires squealing for purchase. She knew the road so well she knew exactly where she could accelerate without fear and where she had to start slowing for a turn, and took full advantage of the first straight stretch. Fifty, sixty, seventy miles an hour, and at last she felt herself relaxing, the tension like heat evaporating off her skin. Eighty, ninety. She dropped back down to sixty for the first curve, a double-S that whipped back and forth. The falling rock signs always made her wonder if it ever really happened; she'd never seen one drop, ever. As always she felt the thrill of those high-speed corners, feeling as though the car could lose the road any second. She slowed to forty for the last curve -- not because it was that sharp, but because she loved to pour on the gas coming out of it, feeling like a bullet erupting from the barrel of a gun, onto a straight section and then over the bridge.

By the time she hit the bridge she was back up to eighty, then up to ninety when she cleared it. Ahead was a curve she knew she should slow down for but she wanted a little more speed before she had to drop down again and coaxed the speedometer to where it was just nudging one hundred. The curve was coming up fast and when she hit the brakes she felt the sick sensation that the car might leave her control any second, both terrifying and exhilarating. She held the road but had to take the turn very wide, over into the oncoming lanes, to keep control. Just at the sharpest part of the curve a pair of headlights stabbed her in the eyes and she felt a moment of sheer panic as she wrenched the car back into her own lane. She had turned too sharply though, and went through a series of back-and-forth contortions, tires slipping and screeching, the back end of the car wanting to get ahead of the front, before she managed to bring her speed down and get the car straight. She was still puffing and shaking with adrenaline, just getting the sense of control back, when she heard a banshee whoop and saw blue and red lights flashing behind her.

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!!" she yelled, the adrenaline rushing out of her body, quickly replaced by stark terror. Three strikes and you're out; license revoked. This could potentially be her third strike.

She had the sense of mind to pull over off of the highway, and sat there shaking, trying to come up with a game plan. She prayed for a male cop, but couldn't tell as the uniformed figure took its time climbing out of the patrol car behind her. she tried to formulate a plan in her head as the dark shadow made its way to her window. She was breathing heavily as he approached, and when he rapped on her window, she startled. She had forgotten to roll it down.

With a shaky hand, she reached out and pushed the button to activate the automatic window down. She tried to have a look of surprise, shock, and fear on her face as she looked up. The officer pointed the flashlight at her face, blinding her eyes. she squinched them shut, but didn't block the light out with her hand, as was her instinct. she tried to look like a good girl as the officer did his initial assessment.

"License and registration please" came a gruff voice. She felt a whoosh of relief; it was a man. Hopefully, she could play on his "save the girl" instinct.

"Oh, officer! Thank goodness you were here! That was so scary. I don't know what happened, I must have hit an oil slick or something coming around that curve; I just lost control for a minute!! I'm so grateful there wasn't any traffic coming the opposite direction!" she spoke as if she was all out of breath from the adrenaline rush. She couldn't see his face for the flashlight in her face, but he did shift his weight where he stood, leaning against her door. She tried not to fidget too much, waiting for a response from him.

"License and registration ma'am" he repeated, and she huffed out the breath she was holding. "damn" she thought. she flashed him a sweet smile, though, and said "of course officer". She leaned over, reaching for the passenger seat floor board, trying to adjust her shirt to flash the top of her cleavage. she sat back up, and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Ma'am, please stay buckled in your seat" he said. she had already unbuckled, but kept the seatbelt in her hand after he spoke. She scooted down a bit in her seat, helping her skirt ride up a bit to show off the tops of her thighs.

"Officer, I think my purse is in the back seat! Is it alright if I reach back there for it?" she said, still trying to play the role of the good, law-abiding girl. He grunted, then nodded, and she smiled again. she twisted around in her seat, on her knees, and leaned over the back of the chair. She surreptitiously tugged the hem of her skirt up, hiking it for an opportunistic flash. She then leaned over, in between the driver and passenger seat, leaning and reaching as far as she could for her purse. She could feel a breeze drift up her skirt, so hopefully he was getting an eyeful of her lace panties. She slid her knees farther apart, and thrust her hips back just a tiny bit, hoping for a little peek-a-boo too.

Her fingers closed over her wallet, and she slowly straightened up and turned back around in her seat. She made sure when she was settled in, her skirt was hiked nearly to her hips, and she dug around in her wallet as if oblivious to the state of her clothes. she pulled out her cards, and handed them to him through the window. Instead of taking the cards, though, he just stood there. She still couldn't see his face.

"Have you been drinking tonight ma'am?"

Cara was shocked for a moment but quickly realized it was a natural question given the way she had careened all over the road.

"No, officer. I only just got off of work a few minutes ago and I'm just taking the long way home. I haven't had a drop."

"I'm going to need you to step out of the car, please."

She felt a fresh stab of fear. "Officer I swear I have not been drinking, I just hit a slick spot on the road or-"

"Get out of the car. Now." His voice was even more gruff and forceful. She felt paralyzed, uncertain, and she didn't move. The cop reached down and pulled on the door handle from the inside and yanked the door open. "Out. Now," he barked.

She could feel her hands shaking as she pushed herself out, and when she stood her legs were like rubber. At last the flashlight was out of her eyes and she turned to try to see his face. Before she could look at him though he grabbed her shoulder roughly and pushed her against the side of the car. She couldn't believe this was happening to her.

She tried to turn back again. "Officer, please, I think there's a misunderstanding here-"

He grabbed a fistful of her hair at the back of her head and turned her toward the car again. Leaning in close, he growled in her ear: "Listen, bitch, you do exactly what I say, when I say. You don't make a move I don't give you permission to make. Right now what you're going to do is stand right there with your hands on the top of the car and not make a fucking move. You got that?"

"Yes, sir." Her rubber legs had turned to jelly and she was genuinely worried they might collapse beneath her. Her heart was hammering and her belly felt like it was full of cold lead. Beneath the fear was an utter disbelief that this could be happening at all.

"Good. Now what I want you to do is walk around the back of the car to the passenger side and put your hands on the hood. And don't you fucking dare turn around to look at me."

She nodded feebly. Even though he had just told her to move she was afraid to all the same, but she managed to start moving. The pavement was rough on her feet but she knew it would have been harder in her heels. As though he were reading her mind, he asked where her shoes were.

"In the trunk."

"Keep moving."

He followed her around the car until she was in position beside the front tire, her hands on the hood.

"Now do you have any weapons or drugs on you? Anything I should know about now?"

"No, sir." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Nothing in the car?"

"No, sir."

"Nothing on your person?"

"No, sir."

"I think I'll just make sure for myself."

She heard the click of his flashlight and the slithering sound of it being put back into his belt. His large hands grasped her waist and slid up and down her ribcage, then around to her belly. He slid them upward, under her breasts and then over them, then squeezed them so hard it hurt.

"Pull your dress up." His voice was even more hoarse and gruff.

"What? I-"

He grabbed her hair again. "I said pull your fucking dress up, cunt!"

She took hold of the hem of her dress and pulled it up. She could feel the breeze on the back of her thighs.

"Higher."

She pulled the dress up to her waist. She could feel the air on her ass. One hand held her hair and the other grabbed her thigh and moved upward, caressing and then squeezing her ass.

"Spread your legs."

She moved her feet farther apart and his hand crawled around and his fingers probed her through her panties. She was astonished to discover she was wet.

She was completely petrified. She could hardly feel her extremities for all the fear and adrenaline coursing through her. She practically panted her breath through her open mouth, and she couldn't stop shaking. She didn't understand what was happening; was he punishing her for flirting? she tried to force her brain to work, but she could hardly work through the fog of disbelief.

When his searching hand slipped past the barrier of her lace, and he slid a finger inside her wetness, her knees buckled and she nearly collapsed. He had to catch her from falling, and when he picked her back up he shoved her against the car, hard. He leaned over her, the full force of his body weight crushing her, his very large erection pressed into her ass. Pulling her head back by her hair, he hissed into her ear "Another stunt like that, and you will regret it." She couldn't stop shaking. She thought she was going to hyperventilate, she was puffing shallowly but couldn't get enough air.

He hauled her off the hood of the car by her hair to a stand, and kicked his foot in between her legs, indicating she spread them again. she started to comply when the headlights of an oncoming car crested a not too distant hill.

She thought she heard him swear under his breath, and he released the hold on her hair. He jerked her skirt back down to decency, and then grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back. It took her a moment to realize that she was being handcuffed.

"Sir! Please! I don't understand, what's going? why are you doing this?" He roughly pushed her towards the patrol car, and she nearly lost her balance walking. He was not being very gentle with her, and he hadn't spoken again. He threw her into the backseat, shutting the door behind her, and walked around to the driver's seat, sliding in. He turned off the flashing lights, and waited for the car to pass them by. Then they sat in deep, dark silence for a while.

She was lying across the bench, hands behind her back, completely in shock and awe as to this turn of events. She had no idea what he intended to do now; he never took her license, so he didn't even know who she was. He didn't know that she was borderline 3 strikes; and for a moment she had to wonder if maybe she would have been better off taking the ticket; he didn't even read her her rights.

It seemed like they had been parked forever and she was trying to work up the nerve to ask what was going to happen next when she felt the bump of the cruiser sliding into gear, then the car lurching onto the road. She forced the words out: "Where are we going?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Whatever was happening she wanted it to be over already, and she couldn't stop the hot tears that began to flow. A sob broke from her and she tried to hold back any more.

"You can cry, just don't talk."

At first it seemed like the first merciful thing he'd done, but when she realized he didn't mind because it turned him on she steeled herself against any more sobs. Her tears still ran but she didn't make a noise. She didn't try to look out the windows or anything because she knew he'd yell, or worse, so she just stayed curled in a ball in the back seat. The handcuffs were tight and hard and bit into her wrists, the seatbelt latches stabbed at her back. She stared at the cage separating the front from the back of the car and waited to see what would happen.

The cruiser slowed and took a tentative turn and she felt the tires bumping off the road, onto gravel or dirt. He didn't stop yet though, and for a few minutes they rode some very bumpy, unpaved surface, until at last he stopped. He got out of the car, engine still running, and she heard his shoes crunching leaves and gravel for a while before the door at her feet opened. He grabbed her ankles hard and yanked her out until her feet were on the ground, then grabbed her hair again and hauled her up until she stood. The car was parked on an unpaved trail, not even a road really, that ran through a thick stand of cedars. He turned her toward what looked like an upward slope, though it was hard to make out in the dark, and pushed her forward.

She couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her as she struggled up a sort of wash. There were no branches or growth, but the rocks were worn smooth from water, and in her bare feet, with her hands still cuffed behind her, it was all she could do not to fall. Once she slipped and was about to pitch forward onto her face, but the cop grabbed her arm to stop her from falling. At last she reached a sort of plateau of bare rock, ringed by cedars.

"On your knees."

"Where are we? What are you doing?"

He grabbed her throat from behind. "I said get on your fucking knees! The next time I have to tell you something twice you're going to seriously regret it! Now get down and stop asking fucking questions!" He bumped her with his shoulder and she staggered forward and half-fell onto one knee. Dutifully she lowered the other leg and knelt on the bare rock.

He slowly paced a circle around her, and she kept her head down, not bothering to look up. She didn't know what his plan was, but from the beginning he told her not to look at him, so maybe if she continued to keep his face hidden from her, she would survive this ordeal.

He stopped his slow, predatory circling in front of her, and just stood there. She was beginning to realize he used the buildup of anticipation to his benefit; sometimes your thoughts are worse than the reality.

Finally, she heard the sound of a zipper. She gave a heaving, shuddering sob and leaned forward, curled up in a fetal position on her knees as he unbuckled his heavy belt and loosened his pants. "Suck it, bitch." he said gruffly. She let out a loud sob, but didn't move from her position. She felt as if she had been encased in cement, as much as she knew she shouldn't anger him, she simply couldn't force herself to move. He reached down and grabbed her by the hair and hauled her up onto her knees. She cried out, and he leaned in close to her face to hiss in her ear again.

"Please!" she said, not letting him speak his threat. "Please, won't you... at least uncuff my hands," she said, trying to buy herself time to come to grips with her fate. "stay alive, stay alive" she thought to herself. "do whatever you have to do to stay alive".

She continued to keep her eyes averted, but she felt him smirk at her request. He stared at her for a few seconds more, as if trying to find her angle, and then release her hair. He moved behind her, and released one of her wrists from the confines of the cuffs, only to recapture it, this time in front of her.

"You can still use them" he said, laughing with a sadistic tone. He positioned himself in front of her again, presenting his erection at her face. "Now, SUCK. IT. Bitch" he said, slapping her cheeks with himself. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the base of him, mostly to stop the demeaning action of being slapped in the face with his dick.

She drew in a deep, steadying breath to prepare herself. This was not her favorite act on a lover, let alone someone she's sooner shove down the side of the hilly path they just climbed.

She drew her hand up the length of him, fist pumping a few times. She leaned forward and delicately licked the mushroom tip of him. She could hear him laughing softly, and tried to ignore him and just get into what she was asked to do. she swirled her tongue over and over the tip of him, around and around, moistening him with her saliva. She finally drew him into her mouth, but only the tip of him still, sucking while still swirling his tongue. She heard him grunt and sigh, and felt a burst of confidence. This was just a man. A man she might not have chosen, or might have chosen had the circumstances been different. Just a man. And a man could be easy to please.

She hoped he would go easily and quickly and be satisfied with this, and employed every trick she had ever learned to try to bring it to a swift end. As best as she could in handcuffs she stroked him near the base with one hand while cradling and tickling his scrotum with the other; she licked hard at the tender cleft under the head; she paid close attention to what he seemed to respond to best. As his hands rested on her head and she felt his back arch she realized she was giving the best head she had ever given.

Then suddenly she was on her back, the wind knocked out of her, gasping for breath. He had pushed her backward with such force that she didn't register it was happening until it was over.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?"

Once more he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. She was still trying to smooth out her breathing as he spun her around and walked her to the front of the cruiser, where he bent her over the reinforced ram on the front end. The hood was hot and the smells of exhaust and gasoline assailed her. Flipping her dress up onto her back he hooked his fingers under the waist of her panties and tore them away with alarming strength in a single motion. She knew what was going to happen next, and reflexively she tried to rise. He was waiting for that though, and shoved her down, fast and hard, until her cheek was flat against the hot metal of the hood.

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