Russian police

It was well past 10:30 p.m. when a real snowstorm broke out in St. Petersburg, and the two operatives, judging by their mumbling, were trying to make some sense of the situation. Pasha and Vanya, dressed in dark balaclavas, dark pants and heavy winter coats, looked like some kind of animals trying to see something in this mess. The balaclavas hid almost their entire faces, leaving only their eyes, eyebrows, and part of their foreheads, and you could see them squinting, trying to see something around them. All that could be heard around, for several blocks, was the rustling and creaking of unidentifiable things. Of course, at such a time in the big city people were still walking around, but still... They were muttering something to themselves under their noses - then in Russian, then in English - and then, bang!, from nowhere, a car jumped out into the street. Pasha and Vanya, dumbfounded, almost ran into each other in the commotion, trying to understand where it had come from. The car braked sharply, the wheels squealed, digging into the ice. The operatives looked around again - a complete mess, professionalism cracked. Imagine the picture: one of them approaches your windshield, the shadow obscures the light of the headlights. Anyway, Vanya, without saying a word, just tapped on the glass, say, open up. Everything was too calm and smooth...and as soon as you opened the door, he abruptly grabbed you and snapped the handcuffs on your wrists - you didn't have time to gasp.

— Вот же шустрый, ушёл . Pasha quietly muttered something in Russian to Vanya, and at that moment he started to rub something very hard on your clutched ass, it poked, it caused you to jerk and squirm, fuck the cuffs were so tight …!!! — Freeze! - Pasha's voice was low and significant.