Saturday 4 June 2022

Fiction: Disappeared Cop #2

I made it back to my place in about 42 minutes or -16 minutes according to my timer. 
By this point he’d have gently come round and started to become aware of his surroundings.  Or unaware, as the case may be.  The first thing he’d probably realise is that he couldn’t open his eyes.  The medical tape was strong, and designed to keep dressings in place; no matter how much he tried, there wasn’t going to be any way to unstick it regardless of being locked inside the black leather hood.  Breathing wouldn’t be a problem as there was a large grommet hole in the mouth area. 
Next, he’d realise that his mouth as stuffed with something he just couldn’t spit out and it was also sealed shut and taped over.  He’d have tried shouting, grunting, drawing any kind of attention to himself by now, all with no avail.  It would be warm sealed inside and he could probably smell the leather and hear the muffled sounds of my van. 
I hoped he hadn’t given up struggling already; I was looking forward to seeing him straining.  His hands useless, there was no way he could manipulate the cuffs, even if he was aware of how he was being restrained.  The hogtie was quite efficient and purposeful, to keep him from going anywhere, and he was attached by the neck.
Parking the van in my garage, and closing the doors, my detached house was well away from prying eyes and nosy neighbours.  There are some things money can buy, and that’s a secure property with plenty of room for development.
Opening the rear door of the van, I was happy to see he was still in the helpless position in which he’d been left, bonds still tight, and his head bowed neck attached.  Evidently he was again fully conscious, the adrenalin of his situation at this point would have been amplifying every movement, vibration and sound.  Still in full panic mode and not yet tired my new pet was still pulling against the ropes, cable ties and metal cuffs which surrounded his body wildly rolling from one side to another and onto his stomach.
I doubt he was even aware of my presence, straddled across his own bike, looking down at him and enjoying the show.  My cock inside the jock I was wearing under my medical scrubs was now at full attention watching his muscular body strain against the bonds.  Now that the garage lighting was flooding into the van, it showed off the cop’s body even more.  Broad shoulders and defined chest tapering down to a narrow waist, a beautiful pair of toned ass cheeks which were accentuated by his tight blue uniform trooper pants.  It looked like the legs were nice a long, and he must have been over 6’.  Casual observations made him appear quite the muscle boy.
Freeing my swollen meat, I palmed the length of it and worked out the oozing pre-cum whilst I watched him struggling.  It was a beautiful sight to behold, especially added to the muffed moans coming from inside the hood.  The smell of hot male in leather was also rising into my nostrils which added to my horniness. 
The thought of getting inside that virgin tight cop hole appeared in my head, and at the same time my new pet struggled more against the restraints lying on his stomach with his crotch grinding down into the floor of the van.  With a few more strokes, the image fired me up so much that I violently exploded, firing my seed over the bike’s tank.  A trail dripped back down onto the leather seat, which seemed a fitting irony for my future intentions with his behind.
I was perhaps a little taller than my new pet, but definitely not as wide.  My hair had gone salt and pepper in my mid 40s, but I still kept it short and business like.  The gym was still a familiar place – weights, Crossfit, yoga – anything and everything I could do to keep fit.  Working shifts sometimes messed with my eating patterns, but I tried to eat fresh and healthy.  My torso was my proudest feature, with a wide chest, and good arms – which my scrubs seemed coincidentally to show to full effect. One of my patients had nicknamed me Doctor D.  My receptionist told me not only was the D representative of my surname, but she laughed and said the patient said it stood for DILF too.
Straightening out my clothes and dismounting the bike, my new pet was still struggling against his bonds lying on his side; perhaps by now he’d realised a presence nearby.  I patted the leather hood, still attached to the ring at the neck by the collar.  I could have sworn he jumped.  Loud protests, grunts and moans followed, and more attempts at struggling.  I squeezed and patted his leather clad shoulder and felt the muscled torso under the jacket and uniform.  Strangely this seemed to calm him and the struggling reduced, but it was short lived and started again when I ran my hand down the front of his jacket, and firmly cupped my hand around his cock and balls. 
The tightness of his uniform trousers formed them into a nice visual bulge, prone and ready for examination.  Cupping and tracing with my fingers, there seemed plenty of meat there for play, and I was able to grasp his cock, which also seemed a decent size.  Perhaps one day I’d let him cum again; but not anytime soon.  For now he was my meat to train as I wanted to serve me.
Forcibly rolling him over onto his stomach the sound and smell of leather was hypnotic.  I ran my hands over his butt cheeks again, finding them tight, muscular and well shaped, and I specifically took time to slowly run my fingers and knuckle down the centre of his ass crack, teasing and trying to find a suitable hole.  More bucking of the stud below me, and load moans into the gag.  Perhaps he could work out where this was going.  I could have done it whilst he was still unconscious, but it was more fun to play with his head this way.
It was time to get him to his new home, and lessons needed to be taught.  Another dose, and another dart.  This time squarely where aimed in the middle of the stud’s butt cheek.  The moaning reduced, and the struggling subsided until he was again peacefully sleeping.
Undoing the cuffs, rope and cutting the cable ties to release the hogtie, I straightened his legs and un-padlocked his collar from the floor of the van.  Even so soon, this image again gave me a raging hard on.  Hot muscle cop in full uniform hooded and laid out in front of me.  Removing the small padlock from the hood, I unzipped and unlaced it and lifted it off his head.  His eyes and mouth still sealed, I breathed in the smell of sweat and leather from inside the hood.  His hair was a little matted to his head, but he was still undoubtedly a good looking piece of meat.
Half dragging, half lifting him out the back of the van was hard work, as I loaded him onto a trolley and closed up the van.
Exiting the garage, it’s sometimes an advantage to have a split level house which is built into a hillside.  My own personal level playspace had been built on over the years, and equipped with all sorts of pleasure pain devices, some custom made, and some from auction sites and ex government surplus.  It’s amazing what hospitals, prisons, military and vets will dispose of.
Swiftly moving through my playspace, I closed and locked the two barred doors behind me, and moved my captive quickly into one of my playrooms.  This particular room contains a fantastic medical bed, either ex prison or asylum use.  With some effort I unzipped his heavy leather jacket, and revealed his well filled uniform shirt.  My strength allowed me to lift him up onto the bed, which almost had the appearance of a X shaped St Andrews cross, but with the arms as if ‘on the cross’ at shoulder height.
Working first on one wrist, I kept the tube restraints in place, and wrapped the brown leather restraint around his wrist, and locked it closed.  Another leather restraint I wrapped around his bicep, which felt pumped up, but still no match for the heavy restraints.  Fastening the restraints on his other wrist and arm, I checked for tightness, and was happy with that I found.
Working down his body, I drew a heavy leather strap over his chest and buckled tight, and then another over on top of the equipment belt he was still wearing. 
His spread eagled legs were fastened with a leather thigh restraint, and a heavy brown leather restraint wrapped and then locked around each of his booted ankles finished his restraint. 
His eyes and mouth still sealed, I added a heavy leather collar around his neck, and fastened it to the rear of the table.  When he came to, there would be some struggle ability but absolutely no chance of getting free.
As a further function, the bed pivots and rotates, so I angled the bed up so he was upright looking forward, about 30degrees from vertical.
Leaving him there for the drugs to fully wear off, I turned off the lights, locked the door, and returned to the house above to change into something more appropriate.  Once he awake, he’d once again be in the different form of panic.