Being handcuffed can turn from a scary to an erotic experience in minutes!

When I was sixteen and at my most rebellious stage, I decided that I would go on a shoplifting spree just for the thrill of it.    I had no idea I would end up being handcuffed in the security office by the end of the day.  

I brought my large bag and began to go from store to store, filling my bag up with lipsticks, nail polishes, small perfume bottles and whatever else was small and tempting.  I thought I would be able to get away with it when a security officer approached me and told me to come with him into the security office for a chat.  

I was terrified but figured I would be able to talk my way out of it with my charm.  I began to sweet talk the older, gruff security guard but he wasn’t having any of it.  He had me empty my bag in his office and scolded me harshly for being such a reprobate.   

“You’ll be handcuffed and detained here until the police get here.”  he said, reaching for my hands.  He handcuffed me and then got on his walkie talkie to call for backup, I guess.   I began to cry softly.  I screwed up and regretted my folly.  I swore if I got out of this I would never, ever shoplift again.  Sitting here handcuffed was beyond humiliating.

“That’s Officer Moreno.”  the gruff officer nodded towards the door behind me and I turned to meet my new tormenter.   Not what I expected at all, I was gazing at a young, good looking guy, not too much older than I was at the time.  Officer Moreno nodded cordially at me and stood like a soldier, awaiting instructions from his superior.

“Go ahead and give the PD a call, have them come down, talk to this young criminal.  I’m going to finish my rounds and head home.  It’s well past time.”   

“Shoplifting, huh?  That’s pretty stupid.”  Moreno said when his boss left.  

“I know.  I was just having fun.”  I said, my eyes tearing up again.  

“Is it fun being handcuffed?” he asked.  I shook my head and the tears started to pour.  He picked up the phone.  

“Wait!  Don’t call the police.  Just let me go home and I promise I will never shoplift another thing in my life.  I’ll never even come back to this mall again. “ I pleaded.

He laughed.  “If you never come back here then I may never see you again.”  

He was flirting, I thought.  Maybe I have a chance here.  “If you don’t call the police and you let me leave, then you WILL see me again.  You can fuck me right now if you want.”  I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care at that point.

“Whoa, whoa… “ he held up his hands.  “I’m an ethical guy here.  I was told by my superior officer to call the police.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to fuck a girl who was handcuffed?” I smiled teasingly.

He laughed.  “That HAS crossed my mind.”  He began to look at me closer and I could tell that he was becoming aroused.  

“Well?”  I spread my legs open a bit.  “Go ahead.”  

He placed me on the desk and pulled my shorts and panties off.  I placed my handcuffed hands up over my head as he began to slide his cock into me and pound my pussy.  He was holding my tits in each hand as he rocked his hips back and forth, enjoying my young, tight and wet pussy.  Within minutes, he came all over my stomach and pulled his dick out of me.

As he promised, he let me go without calling the police.  I dated him for a few months after that.  He handcuffed me every time he fucked me.  I guess you can say I cultivated that fetish!  Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I NEVER shoplifted again.

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