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tyler-lawson · 10 months

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Hit and Run

When Officer Daniels arrived at the Sigma Chi house on Saturday morning around 8, it was a ghost town. He could see a few crushed cans scattered on the well-manicured yard, and there was a beer pong table lying on its side with a few solo cups, but there was no one around. Must’ve been a long night.

There were several cars parked along the street, and one in particular, a red Mazda, caught his eye. There was white paint on the front bumper, a dent on that same side, and a busted headlight. He pulled his cruiser into a spot nearby.

“This is 7227,” Daniels spoke into the radio. “I’ve got eyes on the vehicle at 487 S University. Plate number SBF 3733. Can you confirm?” The dispatcher took a few seconds before confirming that this was the vehicle in question, which had struck at least three parked cars downtown last night, or rather, early this morning, before taking off down a side street with no lights.

Ian was just waking up, now with a splitting headache as the light poured in the window of his room. His roommate was sitting at the desk, messing around with something on the computer. Ian was shirtless, who knew where his shirt had gone last night, still wearing one Nike sock, and a pair of khaki shorts.

Officer Daniels walked up the brick sidewalk leading up the house. A chandelier hung on the porch in front of a big oak door. He thought about using the doorbell, but instead rapped on the door four times. He’d dealt with guys at this house before. The more in charge he could present himself, the better.

At 6’4” and 220, and once a frat guy himself back in the day, Officer Daniels felt confident in dealing with these college kids in ways that some of my colleagues didn’t. They’d have to learn a lesson in responsibility at some point. Now it was one young man’s turn.

A brother answered the door, standing barefoot and shirtless in front of me. “Yeah, what do you… oh. Hi Officer.” He said, looking the officer up and down twice.

Officer Daniels saw the boy rub his eyes and run his fingers through his short, disheveled brown hair, trying to wake himself up and catch up to what was clearly a serious situation. He guessed the young man in front of him was a junior or senior. “Morning, son. You live here?”

“Uh, yes, sir, officer. “ The frat bro stammered, glancing around the entryway and past the officer looking to see if he could see any other cars.

“Can I get your name and age, sir?” Officer Daniels noticed the bro looking nervously past him. “It’s just me here. Just looking into something and have a question or two, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh, my name is Stephen. I am a junior. What, what kind of questions? Is something wrong?”

“Thanks, Stephen.” Officer Daniels added the name to his notepad. “Junior at State,” he repeated as he wrote down the info. “Simple question, really. Any chance you can confirm for me whose car that is?” He pointed to the street, where the Mazda was parallel parked haphazardly, its tail sticking out into the street.

“Oh, yeah, that is Ian’s car. Did he park it illegally again?” Stephen answered, now a bit more relaxed as it did not seem this had anything to do with him.

“Would that be Mr. Brewer? 19 years old? Sophomore?”

“Yeah. He is a sophomore. Do you need to speak with him?”

“Yes, sir, I’d appreciate that. Can you get him for me?”

“Ian! Door!” Stephen shouted, stepping back away from the door and pausing for a moment, listening. He didn’t hear anything, so he shouted again. “Ian, someone to see you!” Still nothing. “Uhh, do you want to just come in? His room is down that hall.” He offers.

Officer Daniels stepped inside, taking off his Ray-Bans. He touched his hand to his holster and to his back cuff pouch, as he was in the habit of doing when he entered a residence. He saw more evidence of last night’s pregame in the living room and kitchen area. Red Solo cups were scattered everywhere, the remnants of pizza and chips still strewn around the floor and every piece of furniture. Two hallways, one on each side of the house, led to several rooms with closed doors, while a set of stairs connected the first floor with additional residences on the second. He walked down the hall, hearing his shoes echo on the hardwood floor. When he reached the room Stephen had indicated, he knocked sharply.

The knock on the door was loud and sharp, and it hurt Ian's head with the massive hangover he was currently fighting. It was way too early for anyone to be bothering them, he thought, especially after last night. He was frustrated at how rude it was, getting up and stomping over to the door. “What the hell do you want.” He barked, pulling open the door. He stopped short, seeing the massive cop standing in front of him.

“Are you Ian Brewer?” Officer Daniels was enjoying the look of fear that had replaced the cockiness in the young man’s voice. He looked worse for the wear, and the officer wasn’t sure if he realized how much worse his day was about to get.

Ian’s mind was struggling to process due to his throbbing headache and the booze still sloshing around. This was serious, and he was not in the right place to be talking to a cop. But, here he was. His roommate stopped and turned, looking at me standing in the doorway. “Yeah, that is Ian Brewer.” The roommate answered for him, calling over his shoulder. "And he really needs to stop parking in the fire lane.” He teased.

“That’s good advice from your buddy,” Officer Daniels said. He stole a glance at Ian while the young man was turned toward his friend’s voice and noticed the wrinkled khaki shorts, the necklace around his neck, and the one Nike athletic sock on his foot. His other foot was bare, and his short blond hair was tousled and messy. It had clearly been a long night for him. “But I’m not making a house call for a parking violation. Ian, can you confirm that the red Mazda parked outside the window there is yours?”

“Yah. I mean, yes sir.” Ian said, looking out the window. “Are you going to tow it or something? I really need that car. I will pay whatever the ticket is.” He said, slightly pleading.

“Ian, think really carefully about your answer to this next question. I need you to be as honest as possible. And before you answer it, just in case, I want to read you something. Right now, I’m just asking a question related to the car, ok?” Officer Daniels pulled my Miranda card out from my front pocket and read it to him verbatim. “Do you understand these right as I’ve read them to you?”

Terrified, now, having only heard rights being read as part of arrests, Ian's mind raced as fast as it could in its very reduced capacity. “What could this be about?” He asked himself, struggling to remember much from the night before. “Yes, I understand. What do you want to know?”

“How did the white paint get on the front of your car? What about the dent, the busted headlight? And were you operating the vehicle last night?”

“Yes, I think I used it to go get some extra snacks for the party last night.” Ian answered, cautiously. “But I don’t know anything about paint or a headlight. It was fine last night.”

“Ok, so you went to the store and came straight back, then were home for the party? You didn’t go to Charlie’s or to The Barrel downtown after having a few warmups here?”

Ian paused for a few moments, catching snippets of downtown, but were they last night? He couldn’t tell. It would make sense that he might have gone downtown, it was pretty common for the frat brothers to try and hit up come clubs after the parties, he thought. “I might have?” He answered, hesitantly. “I don’t really remember much from last night. I was pretty plastered.” he answered before stopping abruptly, realizing that was probably not the best thing to admit to a cop.

“I’m not here to arrest you for drinking underage,” Officer Daniels said, reading his thoughts and the look on his face. “Although, it’s worth noting that you could be.” Daniels saw him take a sigh of relief. “However, I am here because your vehicle was seen leaving the scene of multiple accidents on Third St., including three cars and a near miss with a pedestrian. It seemed that your car swerved to avoid another car while going the wrong way down the one-way,” Officer Daniels explained, reading from his notes. “Does any of this ring a bell, son?”

A vision of driving around down a street, headlights coming straight at him and swerving to avoid them, and then swerving back as soon as he saw a person crossing the road flashed through Ian’s head. He hung his head low, grasping his hands together and fidgeting with his fingers. “I don’t know, sir.” He said, his voice pleading. “Last night is pretty dark, but, maybe. Is, is that bad?”

Officer Daniels thought the kid looked close to crying. He remembered how arrogant the young man had sounded when the officer first knocked on the door, and wondered how many people got to see this side of him. His roommate had stopped doing whatever he was doing and was now fixed on the situation playing out. The roommate looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. He kept his eyes on the floor.

Officer Daniels put his notebook away. “I think that’s enough for right now. Mr. Brewer. Unfortunately, we do have to deal with this situation. Have you ever been in trouble with the police before? Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“No, never.” Ian said, my eyes burning and his throat tight. This was worse than anything that had ever happened to him. He got away with a lot in high school, he thought back. Like yeah, he did stuff and got in trouble, but his dad had always dealt with it for him. Now there was no one to help. And no one to blame. “Are you arresting me?” He asked, thinking back to all those Every 15 Minute skits he had to sit through, suddenly made very real.

“So, right now, why don’t you get a shirt and throw it on. I see a sock got away from you last night, too. If you’ve got slides, throw those on, too. Quicker and easier that way. I guess I’ll give you the choice of whether to take that sock off or throw the other one on. Or, if you really want, I guess you could stay like that if it’s a fashion statement.” Officer Daniels half-smiled at Ian, trying to lighten the situation a bit, but Ian didn’t seem to notice.

Ian stepped back into the room, looking around desperately for a clean shirt to wear. It took a couple tries to find one that didn’t smell terrible, finally pulling on a green polo shirt, leaving it untucked over his khaki shorts. He slid the sock off my foot, grabbing a pair of slides and stepping into them. He walked back toward the officer, shaking with each step.

Officer Daniels knew he could have just thrown the cuffs on Ian and gotten him out of there quickly, but being honest, Daniels had the sudden urge to exert some authority. Ian was cooperative enough, but Daniels couldn’t stop thinking about the entitlement in Ian’s voice when Daniels first knocked. He was clearly a kid who needed to learn a few things. “Put your hands up against the wall for me, son,” the officer said a little more harshly than he needed to.

The sudden change in tone made this so much worse. It scared Ian, making him freeze in place for a moment. He then slowly turned to face the wall, putting his hands up above his head and spreading them wide. Not sure exactly why, it just seemed like the thing criminals did at this point. Criminals… Was he now a criminal. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He banged his head against the wall a couple of times, hating himself for what was happening.

Officer Daniels put his hand on Ian’s shoulder, suddenly feeling a little guilty for my tone. Daniels kicked Ian’s feet apart lightly, noticing the slight indentation from the sock he’d just removed on his ankle. “It’ll be ok, man. Really. Let me explain something, ok? As of now, Ian, I’m placing you under arrest for hit and run and for driving under the influence of alcohol. Do you understand why you’re being arrested today?”

Officer Daniels grabbed Ian’s right hand and guided it slowly behind Ian’s back, then using his left hand to unfasten his cuff pouch. Daniels felt the familiar cold steel and heard the cuffs rattle slightly as they came out.

Ian’s head smacked against the wall once more as he settled down, hearing the words “I’m placing you under arrest.” His body suddenly relaxed as he gave in, this was real, he was going to jail. “Yes, I understand.” He said weakly.

Officer Daniels locked the cuffs in place around Ian’s right wrist, then grabbed his left hand and brought it behind his back. Lining up his hands so that his palms faced outward and then tightening the second cuff around his wrist. “Those handcuffs ok, son? I’ll double lock ‘em so they don’t tighten up on you in the car.

Ian jiggled my hands in the cuffs, feeling them locking around his wrists, cold steel, inflexible steel. “They are fine” He said, slightly twisting his wrists hoping for some give. The chain held them together, but he could still move them around a bit.

“Phone? Wallet with ID in it around here somewhere?”

“Phone and wallet should be on the dresser” Ian said, trying to point, and suddenly remembering the cuffs as they dragged an arm along behind the other. Wincing slightly from the surprise.

“Help your friend out?” Officer Daniels instructed the roommate, who seemed transfixed by the sight of his buddy in handcuffs. “Oh…..yeah sure,” he responded.

Officer Daniels turned back to Ian once the officer had helped put his phone and wallet in his pocket. “Obviously,” Daniels said to him. “Your car will be towed and processed. If you have anything illegal in there, you need to tell me now. It’ll be a felony if we book you in and then find something. I appreciate you being cooperative, and I know this feels like the end of the world, but you will be fine and you will get past this. You just have to be more responsible. What’s going to happen now is I’m going to walk you down the hall and out the front door. Early Saturday traffic isn’t bad so hopefully there won’t be too many people out to see you marched out in handcuffs. You’ll be going down to the city PD to answer a few more questions, and you’ll be taken to the county jail from there for processing. You should be eligible for bail on Monday when you see the judge. Alright, ready to go?”

“Yes.” Ian said, not really able to muster anything else. Cheeks burning red from the shame of it all. Sure, not many would see him, but those that did, like his roommate, would never forget.

Officer Daniels stole another glance down at his feet as they walked out the door and down the hall, his slides barely keeping up with his nervous quick walk toward the car. The officer kept a firm grip on Ian’s bicep, worried slightly that he might fall over. The officer knew he had a rough few months, at least ahead of him, and felt suddenly sorry for the arrogant fuck. “You really will be ok,” Daniels said to him again. “But there are consequences to your actions. If you’re going to get arrested, do it in college, and do it just once.” The officer patted his pockets one last time before putting my hand on his neck and guiding him into the back of the cruiser, a prisoner leaving the frat house and off to jail.

“Did, did this ever happen to you?” Ian asked, suddenly curious from the things the officer had said to reassure him and trying to distract himself from the humiliation of being perp-walked out of the frat house.

“Not me. But my brother got a couple DUIs in his college years. He’s doing fine, but it was a lesson he had to learn. Luckily, he didn’t kill anyone, and neither did you. Now, it’s your turn to live and learn. When you’re sitting in your cell this evening, I want you to think about that.” Officer Daniels closed the door of the cruiser.

The door swung shut as Ian was looking out. Suddenly the bars over the window obscured his vision slightly. How appropriate. Going from freedom to cuffs and a cage, so quickly. So stupidly. He leaned back against the hard plastic of the back of the seat, sliding the cuffed arms into the molding. Everything was made to fit a prisoner like him. “Fuck. Prisoner. Fuck. Why am I slipping into this mindset so easily?”

(Thanks to @adawg0901 for helping me write this great story!)

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tyler-lawson · 11 months

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Break In (3/3) - Epilogue

He spent the night hogtied, gagged, and masked until his suite mate came knocking on his door late that morning, as he lay there grunting and screaming through his gag. "Oh, damn. What happened to you?" His mate asked, admiring the view of the body bound and gagged before him. His mate walked over, unknotting the gag and gently removing it from between his teeth. His face burned both red from the gag being tightly bound around his head for so many hours and from the embarrassment of his predicament. "Robber came in last night, in the middle of the night. He threatened me with a knife and tied me up like this." He said, rattling the chains of his hogtie for emphasis.

"Can you please call the police so they can get me our of here?" He begged. "Yeah, sure, let me just admire your situation for a minute longer." His mate said, stopping and staring before snapping himself out of his hypnosis and pulling out his phone. 15 minutes later, his mate returned with an officer who stopped short in the doorway as he rounded the corner. "Wow, yeah, you were not kidding." The officer said, stepping in and sitting on the bed. "Don't worry, I will get you out of all of this stuff." He continued, pulling out a key. "You want to tell me what happened here tonight?"

"Yeah, like I said, a guy broke in here last night, threatened me with a knife if I didn't cooperate. He tied me up like this and robbed me, and just vanished." He explained, quickly.

"Yeah, I have been hearing about similar things around here recently. You are certainly not alone." The officer reassured him. He deftly removed all of the cuffs, piling them on the bed. His suitemate wandered off, leaving just the officer alone with him. When all of the cuffs had been removed, he was finally able to relax and let his legs rest a bit, flopping his body face down on the bed. "Do you want me to take these cuffs away, or do you want to hang onto them?" The officer asked.

The officer rested a hand on his leg, gently moving moving his fingers just slightly. He recognized the feeling, his body instantly tensing as he turned to look at the officer. The dark brown eyes locked with his, flashing back to the eyes hidden behind the balaclava. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The officer gazed back, unconcerned, non-chalantly asking "Well? What do you want to do with those?"

(This story is a collaboration with a friend based off of a roleplay we did. We are going to be doing a drawing for the chance to join us and contribute to a continuation of this story. There will be one trivia question with each part of the story. Submit a correct answer to all 3 via DM by 2023/06/15 to enter.)

(Question 3: What is the thickest tendon in the human body?)

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tyler-lawson · 11 months

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Break In (2/3)

I kept petting him for another little bit, before abruptly stopping. I grabbed his arms, digging my hands between his cuffed arms and his body, up into his armpits. I lifted him up off the floor, putting his chest and torso fully onto the bed before grabbing his knees and swinging them around so that his entire body was laid on the bed. I spread him out, his legs fully extended on the bed, his chest laid down, his gagged face turned to the side so it was not pressed straight down into the covers.

"Now, while I pick up some things from your room, I want you to just lay here and be a beautiful statue for me." I explained. He mmphed in annoyance and slightly growled, glaring at me. "I want you to keep your legs flexed, your feet always pointing straight towards me, at least 3 inches off the bed. You understand?" I asked, grabbing the back of his head. He glared at me, biting his gag as he thought for a moment. I continued squeezing the back of his head sliding my hand down to his neck and pinching the pressure points just under his skull. He finally nodded, mumbling something but seeming to acquiesce. I relaxed my hand, and he shook his head trying to get the pain in his neck to subside.

He lifted his feet off the bed, spinning himself with great effort so that his cuffed ankles pointed toward me. I grabbed his feet, curling his toes and flattening the tops of his feet to be perfectly in line with his shins. "Like this, always." I said, patting his feet and releasing them, stepping back. He grunted as he lay there, his chest twisted to the left to watch me.

I started moving around, walking over to his desk and grabbing his headphones and dumping them into my backpack. I rifled through his desk, grabbing some various odds and ends that looked shiny and maybe easily flipped. He managed to keep his feet pointed, lifted off the bed, his toes curled and feet beautifully displayed for me as I grabbed his emptying the cash and cards from there into my bag as well. I glanced at his ID, thinking for a moment then threw it in my bag as well.

Every time I moved, every item I grabbed, I made sure to glance back and get a full vision of my bound statue; his legs flexed, his feet prominently displayed, the chains on his wrists and ankles jingling slightly as he tried to move about. I walked over to his dresser, rifling through the drawers as I did. I paused for a moment, finding a partially see-through mask sitting on top of folded pairs of his boxers and silken running shorts.

"Mmm. What do we have here?" I asked, rhetorically, grabbing the mask and letting it dangle from my hands as I walked toward him. His eyes got big as he saw me do this, mmmphing softly and shaking his body a bit. I climbed onto the bed next to him, bringing the mask up to his face. "Looks like someone has some secrets." I taunted, as I placed the mask over his eyes, pulling the bands behind his head. He shook his head as I let go, biting the gag and growling at me. I stepped back, admiring his body as he shook and tried to grind his face against the covers.

"Stop that, now." I said, grabbing his feet, curling his toes and over-flexing his ankle as I pushed his feet toward the ceiling. He yelped in pain and turned to face me, his struggles evaporating. "I am deciding your wardrobe, and you will not change anything I have given you." I scolded. He dropped his head in resignation as I released his feet and stepped back. I returned to his dresser, flipping through his underwear and activewear, grabbing some samples that I threw into my bag as well. I turned around to find him relaxing his feet and legs resting on the bed.

I walked back over, grabbing his ankles and sliding him so that his knees and everything below hung off the bed. "Keep your feet pointed and elevated, focused on me." I ordered. He grunted and mmphed, but complied, flexing his feet and lifting his legs again, now with more difficulty.

I finished ransacking his room, taking as I pleased. I had a collection of some things that were somewhat valuable and he could easily report stolen, and then more unmentionables that he would probably not report. Who expects a thief to take one sock of a pair? A pair of boxers? No, that stuff would all be our little secret.

I walked back to the bed, dropping my backpack next to it as I sat down, grabbing his head and gently stroking it. "Well, it seems like my time with you has come to an end. I need to run before anyone can find me. But, I am going to leave whoever finds you a pleasant little surprise." I said. He grunted in confusion and fear as I gently played my hands through his hair and over his back. Such a weird set of feelings he had, being shown physical affection and tender kindness, while the words I spoke were so terrifying. He grunted and chewed on his gag, struggling to reconcile his conflicted feelings.

I finished petting the bound body before me, and moved around the bed, rotating him so that his head faced straight towards the door into the room. I reached down, grabbing his legs by the ankles and wrenched them up behind his back, holding them close to his cuffed wrists and just above his boxer-clad butt. He started struggling and pushing against me, so I quickly grabbed a third pair of cuffs and locked his leg irons to the cuffs on wrists, pinning him into a loose hogtie.

I gently ran my fingers across his soles, making him squirm from the sensations as I held his feet in place. "You are going to stay like this, your soles pointed straight to the door, your toes pointing to the ceiling until someone finds you." I said. "And further, you are going to stay like this while everyone waltzes in and out of your room, until some nice officer finally shows up with keys to your cuffs." I continued.

He grunted and mumbled in his gag, before finally nodding and agreeing. I gently smacked his feet as I jumped off the bed, grabbing my bag and walking out the door, closing it behind me. I slipped back out the window, carefully replaced the screen, and slipped away into the night.

(This story is in collaboration with a friend based off of a roleplay we did. We are going to be drawing for the chance to join us and contribute to a continuation of this story. Submit correct answers to all 3 questions by DM to me by 2023/06/14 to enter.)

(Question 2: Why is the date of February 20th important in the history of handcuffs and modern LEO restraints?)

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tyler-lawson · 11 months

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The Break In - 1/3

I first carefully remove the screen from the window frame. I slip a knife between the panels of the window, sliding it up to disengage the lock. The apartment was dark, and the building and surrounding area was quiet. I slid the window open, pushing away the covering and slide inside. I hear sounds coming from the next room, and freeze, listening intently. I can see the small slip of light under the door. Glancing around, I gather that I am in a living room, seeing the couch and kitchen not far away. I creep over to the door.

I can hear the TV on, he is watching a basketball game. Probably pretty intently focused on it. My black-gloved hands slowly turn the knob and once the latch is fully retracted, push the door in just enough to keep it that way. I listen to hear if he has noticed me. Nothing.

I breath slowly, my mouth covered by the balaclava over my face, just my dark eyes visible underneath the stretched material. My shoes, tactical pants, and shirt all black as well, hiding my body completely beneath dark fabric.

I breath deeply, shove the door open, and step inside, my knife held, low but visible. The noise shakes him from his focus, turning as he sits on his bed. He catches sight of my knife, and instantly puts his hands up. He is wearing just a shirt and a pair of boxers, his bare legs stretched out on the bed. As he turned, he pivoted his feet around so I could see them. His soles wrinkled as he tensed every muscle, his feet scrunched, the muscles in his legs and arms taut.

"On your knees, face away from me, hands behind your head." I ordered, lifting my knife menacingly as he stared at me, too scared to even speak.

He slowly slid off the bed, the sheets catching his boxers and riding them up as he moved. He slid down onto the ground, careful to keep his hands up just barely bouncing off his head as he did. He knelt down, facing the bed, his hands resting on the crown of his head. I looked down at his body, scared stiff, his muscled flexed. His feet were laying flat on the ground his soles pointed straight up at me, his toes curled.

"Don't move, don't resist, and you won't get hurt." I growled as I stepped up behind him. I reached down, running my hand along his right foot, loving the feel of his soft skin and wrinkled sole as I did. From toes to heel, my hand grazed along his foot, then past his heel up onto his ankle. I grabbed his ankle, my touch switching from smooth to forceful, and crossed his ankles. I then stepped up close, driving my leg between his crossed ankles as I stood up and put my right hand on his hands.

I bent down slightly, so that the knife could rest on the side of his throat. "Please, please don't hurt me." He begged.

"I am not going to hurt you, I just want to grab some things and I will be out of here. As long as you are quiet and cooperate, nothing is going to happen to you." I whisper, sounding both menacing and comforting.

I reached back, stashing the knife in a holster and grabbing a pair of handcuffs from my pocket. I slapped one around his left wrist, grabbing the chain between them and dragging his wrist down behind his back. He inhaled sharply as the cuff smacked against his wrist, trying to control his instincts as best he could. My right hand held his right wrist tightly, then brought it down behind his back as well, pushing it into the waiting cuff. I quickly hit the button on both cuffs to double-lock them, and stood back up slightly, wrapping my hands around his chest as I pulled his torso back against me.

He winced, maybe from pain, maybe from fear, as I slowly rubbed my hands over his pecs, down to his abs, and over his ribs. "Please, you don't have to do this. I will let you take whatever you wwwwmph." He started to plead with me. I grabbed a bandana from a pocket, pulling it tightly through his teeth as he tried to get out the last word. I pushed his head forward, pulling the bandana tight through his teeth and behind his head, knotting it securely there.

"I told you to shut up. Guess I have to do it for you." I said, placing a gloved hand over his face and mouth as he bit down on the gag and mmmphed and chewed on it. I let go of his face as he started to shake his head, trying to dislodge the gag forgetting how circles work. I shoved his torso forward, so that his chest landed against the bed, and turned my focus to his lower body.

His boxers hid little, his quads and calves flexed and ready. I let my hands run down the outsides of his legs, feeling the contours of his toned muscles as I did. His moaning and mumbling through his gag turned from annoyance to confusion as I felt his bare legs, down to his crossed ankles and exposed feet.

I slid my hands along his soles, feeling them start to quake and quiver as the gentle touch of my gloved hands started to build. His feet started flexing and flicking about, trying to avoid my hands as his confusion turned to coerced laughter as my fingers deftly tickled his naked soles. I let his feet bounce and move about for a bit, the movements becoming more and more exaggerated as each wave of contact brought compounding fits of laughter. He finally uncrossed his legs, doing his best to get his feet away from my dancing fingers, before is paused.

"Yeah, that is not okay." I said, my voice turning hostile. He breathed in hard a few times, enjoying the reprieve before he could focus and start to mmph apologetically toward me as he saw me pull a pair of leg irons from my pocket. He tried to dance his feet out of the way as I grabbed each ankle, but it was all for naught. The cuffs of the leg irons wrapped around his ankles, chaining them together with a short chain.

"I said I was just going to grab a few things and I would be on my way. Turns out that was a bit of a lie. Before I go anywhere, I am going to have a little bit of fun with you, my little bondage buddy." I said, rubbing one hand through his hair, the other over his gagged face as he stared at me with eyes both scared and ... maybe longing. I continued to pet his head, him turning into it a bit, feeling my appreciation for his beautiful body conveyed in my gentle strokes through his hair.

(Question 1: How many bones are in the human foot?)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

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DUI - 02

He flexed and stretched his hands, opening them and grasping at whatever he could. I let his feel around, getting used to his cuffs. I allowed his arms to relax down behind his back. I finally had a moment to relax, and was able to take stock of him in general. He was thin and wiry, probably part of why it was so easy for me to heft him around like I did.

I rolled him on his side, kneeling down in front of him. I was about to start frisking him when I noticed that he was wearing a bag strapped across his chest, the strap going from left shoulder to right hip. I rolled him back onto his stomach, unclipping the bag then rolling him back on his side to remove it.

“Hey, give that back. That is mine.”

“Well, right now I need to see what is inside it.” I explained. I unzipped the bag, pulling out his cellphone, wallet, and a couple random crumpled pieces of paper.

“Hey, if my phone is broken, you are going to have to pay for it you fucking brute.”

I just kind of ignored him, using my flashlight to check inside the bag, and then returned the items to it, zipping it back up. I laid the bag next to me, as I turned my focus to him. I started frisking his chest, down his sides, and down his abs to his waistband. I lifted his shirt away from his waistband, sticking two fingers in the waistband and rubbing them around.

“Hey, what the fuck? You finding something you like?” He said, looking down and sucking in his stomach as my fingers moved around.

I continued ignoring him, rolling him onto his stomach, pulling his shirt away from his waistband in the back and moving my fingers around that way.

“At least buy me dinner first, jackass.” He called, looking back over his shoulder. I lifted his arms up, sweeping my hands up the center of his back, and down the sides. “Ow, fuck, that hurts my wrists. The cuffs are too tight, man.” He complained.

I kept him on his stomach, sticking my hands into his back pockets and checking them out. I “accidentally” tugged his pants down a bit, leaving just the waistband of his underwear sticking out underneath. Back onto his side, I checking in his pocket, again tugging his pants down just a bit. And then completely over again, checking his other pocket.

“Dude, I am getting dizzy. Could you figure out how you want me?”

I ran my hands down his legs. His shorts stopped just above the knee, but I ran my hand down his calf and to his foot. I pulled his foot back toward me, pulling his shoe off and thoroughly patting down his sock.

“Oh, its feet you are into, huh? Like the smell?” He asked, trying to push his foot closer to my face. I smacked his foot away, slid his shoe back on, and rolled him back over. “Dude, my washing machine doesn’t even spin this much, asshat.”

I felt down his other leg, checked his foot under his shoe, making sure to hold tightly onto his foot as I did. I rolled him back onto his stomach, spread his legs wide, and knelt between his legs. I ran my hands up the inside of his legs, from his feet up to his crotch, going forward underneath him and then backwards up his butt.

“Damn, bro. You are really fucking handsy aren’t you? Like what you are seeing?” He asked, pulling his his legs up a bit and sticking his ass up in the air a bit. I smacked it as I stood up, reaching down and grabbing his elbow, pulling him to his feet. I walked him over to the car, slammed him up against it, and grabbed his hat, pulling it off his head, checking it, and dropping it on the ground next to the bag.

“Hey, give that back!” He demanded. I grabbed his head from behind holding it straight as I ran my hands through his blond hair. “Dude, what the actual fuck?”

I pushed his head up against the car, jamming my knee into his ass and my shoulder against his back, pinning his body against the car. “Just. Shut the _fuck_ up, dude. I am trying to get through this as fast as possible, and you are doing whatever you can to make this as difficult as possible.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He whined. “Just leave me the fuck alone. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Well, asshat. I was trying to have you come do the roadside sobriety check, and if you passed, you could have been on your way. But you wanted to do this the hard way. And now you get to go to jail!”

“Look, I am sorry, man. Can I just do it now? Look, I am being compliant.” He said, relaxing a bit as I pushed against him.

I breathed heavily for a moment, contemplating. “You know what? Fine. If you can pass the sobriety tests now, I will you go.” I said, relaxing and stepping back away from him.

He stepped back and turned to face me, then turned sideways, holding out his hands, expecting me to remove the cuffs. “Uh uh. Those aren’t coming off. You can do the tests cuffed. That is part of what you get for being such a pain in my ass tonight.”

“Oh come on. How the hell am I supposed to pass when my arms are locked behind me?”

“That is your problem, not mine.” I said. “Now, come over here to this line, and walk it heel to toe for 20 steps.” I said, dragging him over to the shoulder line of the bike lane. I stepped back and leaned against the hood of the cruiser as he did that. He was shaky and stumbled after 3 steps

“Come on, this is not fair. I can’t balance with my hands locked up like this.” He said, shaking his hands and arms behind his back. He paused for a moment, looking down, and then turned back to me. “Can I try it again? Just one more time?” He asked, looking at me pleadingly.

“Alright. Try it one more time.” I allowed, not moving from my spot as I just watched him shakily try again. He stumbled after 5 steps this time, but recentered and kept walking. “Nope, that is it. I have seen enough, drunky.” I said.

As I was starting to say that, he glanced back at me one more time, and then turned and started running away down the street. I bolted straightened up quickly, pushing off the hood of the cruiser and taking off in pursuit. He was a bit shorter than me, and would not have been faster if it were not for all of the gear I was carrying around, worst of all my bulletproof vest.

I chased him for 100 yards. He stumbled several times, and eventually ate it as he missed trying to step up onto the curb. He face-planted into the grass on the side of the road. He was pushing himself up off the grass with his face. He was to his knees when I tackled him from the side, grabbing him around the waist and shoving it to the ground.

I landed laying over him, my hips over his cuffed hands. I spun around, laying fully on top of him, starting to wrap my hands around his shoulders. I could feel his legs squirming underneath me, writhing and struggling. I dug my knees between his legs, wrapping my legs around his, left wrapped around left, right wrapped around right.

“Oh, this was a really, really stupid idea.” I said, using my body to completely pin him down to the ground, preventing all of his struggling.

“Fuck off you, fucking pig. Get off me, leave me alone.” He continued whining. He kept complaining and whining as I lay there, catching my breath. I then used my hands to push off his back. I unwrapped my legs from around his, straddling his hips with my knees. I started moving my body backwards down his legs, pushing his legs together as I went. He flailed his legs, bending at the knee and trying to kick me in the back with his heel.

I put my leg behind his knees, spinning around to face his flailing feet. As he was kicking like he was throwing a temper tantrum, I wrapped my arms around his calves, pulling them together and pinning them to my chest. I held onto them with one arm, reaching into my pocket with the other, grabbing a pair of leg irons.

I slapped them around his ankles, then dropped his feet back. He tried kicking again, immediately pulling the shackles to their full extent. “Ow, fuck.” He complained, as I slid off him again. I grabbed his elbow, pulling him back to his feet. Now stumbling even more as the leg irons cut into his ankles and snapped with each step, I half-walked, half-dragged him back to the cruiser.

(Continued thanks to @readysetgoworld for the inspiration!)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

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DUI - 01

Memorial Day weekend always saw a spike in stupid behavior. Which was great for me. The state always had grant money available for paying overtime to volunteers that gave up their holiday to go out and get arrests. And it always helped boost my arrest numbers for the month. Not that I usually was lacking, but always good to throw in a few more to make the numbers look great.

I had a few spots I liked to set up at, and just watch traffic. They had great sight lines and I could see the telltale signs of drunk drivers from quite far away. Tonight I was on the road leading away from downtown, headed to one of the residential areas. A very common route for impaired drivers heading home from a night of drinking.

2 AM rolled around and I saw a set of headlights slowly drifting back and forth in their lanes. I got in my cruiser, and pulled in behind the car as it blew past me at 14 over. The driver probably recognized the light bar on top or the spotlight, as he immediately slammed on the brakes to bring it down under the speed limit. As he did, he swerved out of his lane a little bit.

“17-Charlie. I have a possible DUI. Driver is struggling to maintain his lane and driving erratically. I clocked him at 14 over before he recognized me. I am going to stop him and check it out.” I called over the radio as I hit my lights.

“Copy 17-Charlie. I have you in service.” The dispatcher responded.

The red and blue lights and bright white spotlight suddenly lit up the dark street, playing off the houses on both sides. I blipped the siren twice, trying to not disturb the sleeping civilians around us.

As the lights came in, he again braked hard, swerving more as he struggled to control his vehicle. It seemed like he was maybe contemplating running, but after a few tense seconds he yielded, pulling his car over into the side bike lane along the edge of the road and stopping. Amusingly, the rear passenger-side tire was up on the curb, giving distinctly disheveled look to the scene.

I turned the spotlight to brightly illuminate the cabin, shining through the rear window and letting me quickly see the silhouettes of the occupants. The only occupant was the driver, and he was appearing agitated already, bobbing around in his seat.

I stepped out of the cruiser, pulled out my flashlight, and carefully approached the vehicle. The window was already rolled down as I approached, stopping just behind the A-pillar.

“What the hell do you want?” He yelled as I approached.

“Good evening sir. Where are we headed tonight?” I asked, needing to flip control of the conversation. As I passed the rear doors, I shone my light in, confirming there were no other occupants.

“That is none of your fucking business.” He spit back. “I know my rights.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing the encounter was only going to get better from here. “Sir, I am going to need to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance.” Starting to switch from polite to commanding.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He said reaching over to the glove box and shuffling around. As he turned, I bent down and shone my light in the window, keeping an eye on both of his hands as he retrieved his documents. He was blinded by the bright light as he turned back, throwing up a hand to cover his eyes. “You mind getting that thing out of my face?” He whined.

I turned the flashlight slightly, down and to the left. As he dropped his hands, I could see that his eyes were red and bloodshot. He tried to shove the documents at me, managing to drop one into the footwell as he did. He bent down to retrieve his license, and accidentally hit the steering wheel with his head. The manages to trigger to horn, causing him to jolt back in his seat as looked around for what had caused the noise. It took him a couple of clicks before he figured out what had happened. He bent down again more carefully this time, grabbing his license and jamming it out the window to me.

I took his collected documents, starting to glance through them. “Alright Scott.” I said, reading his name and info off his license. “Do you know why I pulled you over tonight?”

“Cause you liked my bumper stickers?” He stated, a smirk on his face.

“No, that is not why I stopped you tonight. Can you tell me what the speed limit is on this road?”

“Yeah, I think it is not quite enough to catch air as you go over the bump back there.” I responded, clearly not interested in cooperating at all.

“Look, Scott. This attitude is not going to get you very far in life. And certainly not with me. Sit tight, I will be back.” I said, straightening up and starting to walk back to the cruiser.

I heard a wolf-whistle as I did. “Ow ow! Nice ass, Officer.” He called after me. “Strut that stuff!”

I sat back in the cruiser, typing in his information and pulling up his record. As the computer processed, I took a look at the bumper stickers on his car.

“No Donuts Are left In This Vehicle Overnight”

“I eat bacon for breakfast.” With a picture of a pig wearing a police hat.

“Master to a public servant.” With a man with a whip and a pair of handcuffs standing over a cop kneeling on all fours.

I chuckled to myself at the performatively belligerent bumper stickers. His record was relatively uninteresting. A handful of traffic tickets, a citation for minor in possession and public intoxication, presumably from college. Enough contact with the police to, I guess, justify his clear disdain, but nothing particularly interesting.

I returned to his window, with my written citations for speeding and unsafe breaking, just in case the next step ended differently than expected, somehow.

“Scott. Where you are coming from tonight?” I asked, leaning back down to his window and sticking my face close to his, smelling for alcohol on his breath.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Anything to drink tonight?”

“Why, you have something for me to slurp, you fucking pig?”

“That’s it. Step out of the vehicle, now!” I ordered, straightening up. The smell of alcohol was unmistakable on his breath, his eyes were glassy and bloodshot, his speech slurred slightly. I had more than enough evidence to warrant road-side sobriety check. But, his attitude was the real reason I was pulling him out of the car now.

“Nah, I’m good.” He said, folding his arms across his chest and turning his head away from me in a childish show of defiance.

I tried the door handle, glad to find that when out the vehicle in park, the car mush have automatically unlocked the doors. I pulled the door open and reached in, grabbing his arms. He was a bit shocked when the door started opening, but he continued to sit there petulantly. I reached across and unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbing his arm and leg and dragging him out of the seat.

His arms and legs flailed as he was suddenly falling toward the ground. He landed on his butt, but his fall was lessened a bit as he grabbed the seatbelt with his right arm and used it to slightly hold himself up. “What the hell was that for?” He asked as he tried to collect himself.

I grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him to his feet and slamming him against the car. He cushioned himself a bit with his arms, but his chest still hit hard. “Oof. Fuck off, man!” He snapped. His arms were bent at the elbow, from cushioning the slam. He turned to look at me over his right shoulder, and slammed his right elbow back, aiming for my head.

I ducked back away from it, and stepped back and to the left. His swing spun him around so he was facing towards me. As I squared up with him, he followed up with a left hook, stumbling forward slightly as he reached for me. I ducked back again, stepping to my right this time, letting the swing pass by me again, guiding it past my head with my left hand.

As I guided, I grabbed onto the wrist. My right hand came in behind the elbow. I pulled with the left and pushed with the right, hyperextending his elbow and pushing his shoulder away from me and towards the ground. He was already off balance from throwing the haymaker, and this just accelerated things as he stumbled trying to catch his balance again. He landed hard on his left knee.

I held onto his outstretched left arm, pulling it hard to the left and spinning him down to the ground. His chest landed hard, sliding against the asphalt. His right arm had helped slightly catch him as he went down, but was now being pulled straight. I landed next to him, kneeling at his side, tucked up against and pointing toward his outstretched left arm. I pulled my knees up, putting them on his wrist and elbow, pinning him down as I fetched the cuffs off my belt.

He struggled, trying to push himself up with his right arm as his left was trapped under me. I grabbed his wrist again, pulling it up away from the pavement again hyperextending his elbow. He collapsed back down, as he cried out in pain. With his wrist elevated, I could snap the cuff around his wrist. I held onto the cuffs as rolled his arm forward toward his head, then used my knee to force his elbow to bend as I started rotating his arm behind his back. He continued crying out, cursing at me between cries of pain.

“Get off me! Let me go you fucking asshole! Ow! Fuck! That hurts!”

I ignored him as I pulled his left arm fully behind his back, using my knee to push it up high behind his back. He tried to flail his right arm a bit then pulled it under his chest.

“Give me your other hand behind your back.” I ordered, holding the cuffed wrist with my hand and knee and pushing it up further.

“Fuck off, get the hell off me. I didn’t fucking do anything. Why are you doing this to me?” He replied back.

I dug my arm in between his right arm and his side, sliding it up into his armpit and forcing his elbow out from underneath him. I slid my arm down along his arm to his elbow, and wrenched it back behind his back. I finally slid down to his wrist, grabbing it and twisting it back behind his back. I slammed it into the remaining cuff, and relaxed slightly.

(Special thanks to @readysetgoworld for the inspiration for this story! Hope you enjoy!)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

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Tailgating - 03 - Going for a Ride

"Where'd your boyfriend go? Is he not coming with us?" Ian mocked from the backseat as the other officer walked away.

"Dude, seriously, just shut the fuck up." I said, staring at him through the rear view mirror.

"Why don't you make me? Get your big old hog in here and I won't be doing any talking." He said, opening his mouth wide, baring his teeth, and then clamping his mouth shut.

I figured ignoring him might be the better option now, so, I focused on just getting him to the jail and off my hands. I started the car, pulled out, and started driving down the road. He was continuing to taunt and jeer me from the back seat. I noticed him lean forward a couple of times, but it seemed like he was just trying to get closer to really emphasize his latest zinger.

I belatedly realized that was not the case, when I glanced back and noticed his arms were moving back and forth in front of him. I pulled over the car immediately, quickly pulling his door open to find him frantically rubbing his, fortunately still clothed, crotch, furiously.

"You want a ride, officer?"

I grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him out of the car, slamming him to the ground. His hands ended up above his head, stretched out on the pavement. I knelt on his back, then grabbed his stacked, cuffed hands and pulled them up behind his head, resting the cuffs on his neck as his elbows pointed straight out.

I unlocked one of the cuffs, dragged his hands behind his back, and recuffed them, stacked behind his back again. "Don't move your hands around to the front." I said gruffly, twisting the cuffs against his bones to make him feel some pain.

"Ow, fuck. Come on man, I just wanted to entertain myself on this boring-ass ride."

I lifted his torso up off the ground, letting his legs drag behind him as I pulled him around to the back of the car. I popped the trunk, grabbing a pair of leg irons and a belly chain out of the trunk. I laid the belly chain on the pavement, holding the Smith and Wesson leg irons in my hands. I knelt on his ass, facing his legs, and grabbed his ankles, crossing them and pulling them up to his butt.

"What the fuck do you need more chains for? You already have me cuffed."

"Yeah, but you have already shown you can manipulate those. So, we are going to get you locked up so you can't do anything." I explained.

I locked one of the cuffs around an ankle, and then held onto them as I slid off to the side. I wrapped the chain of the leg irons around his cuffs, and used it to pull his ankles tight against his butt. I locked the other ankle cuff around his other ankle, securing the hogtie.

I grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him up so that he was kneeling. I grabbed the chain off the ground, wrapped it around his waist, pulling it tight. I used a padlock to lock the chain around his waist, also catching the chain of the leg irons and part of the hinge of the cuffs in the shackle of the padlock.

I stepped back as he tested his restraints, tugging his hands against the chains, finding them securely locked around his waist. I looked down, noticing that the dark spot on his underwear had grown larger, and his dick was hard and slightly twitching as he tugged against the metal restraints.

"You are pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?" I asked, nodding towards his crotch.

"You would be too, if you had what I am packing!" He spat back.

"Yeah, and what exactly are you packing? What were you trying to get out?" I ask, now somewhat suspicious. I kneel down at his side, lifting up his shirt and feeling around his underwear over his sagging pants, feeling for any weapons or worse keys he might have on him. I push the fabric of his boxer briefs against this body, starting at his left hip, working my way down to the waistband of his pants, and forward. Getting to his dick and balls, I gripped the fabric tight against them, moving along them to feel for anything hidden.

He moans as I do this, tilting his head back. "Oh yeah, just like that, man. Check me real thorough. Who knows what I am hiding in my shorts." He says, almost begging. "Just lock me up like the bad boy I am." He continued, moaning and starting to thrust his hips a little, as best he could still being hogtied and cuffed.

I rolled my eyes, doing my best to ignore him as he tried to make me uncomfortable. I continued searching over to his right him, then around to his butt, feeling his cheeks and up the crack.

"You were really just rubbing one out in the back seat?" I asked, incredulous, but, having found nothing, that was the only conclusion I could come to.

"Just enjoying my time with you, officer." He said, winking.

"Alright, well, you are not going to be slipping your hands in front now." I said, standing up and grabbing him by the shoulders. I picked him up a few inches off the ground, carrying him over to the open rear door. I set him down, kneeling on the ground again. I put his chest against the side of the seat, and lifted him by his knees, sliding him into the car on his stomach across the backseat. He grunted and squirmed as I did.

Once he was situated on the seat, I paused for a second checking my radio, listening to some traffic to make sure I was not needed. When I looked back, getting ready to close the door, I noticed that his ass was moving up and down as he humped the backseat in his hogtie. I reached in, grabbed his knees, and rolled him onto his back. I leaned in, strapped both seatbelts over him to keep him in position, then closed and locked the door.

"You are absolutely unstoppable, huh?"

"What else am I a supposed to do. You have me hogtied. Not like I can even twiddle my thumbs."

The rest of the drive to the jail was unremarkable, especially given how difficult the first part of it was. When we got there, several guards met me in the sally port.

"He is a real handful." I warned.

They helped me pull him out of the car, carrying his hogtied body into the jail. We took him into a solitary cell, laying him on his stomach but otherwise leaving him cuffed and hogtied. I glanced back as we stepped out and the heavy steel door swung shut. I was pretty sure I could see him thrusting hard against the floor again. Horny bastard.

(Continued thanks to @adbad77 for the inspiration for this story.)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

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Tailgating - 02 - Muster Point 3

Ian stood there, looking at me, his hands cuffed behind his back, the leg irons of a set of transport cuffs locked around his ankles. His pants were sagging below his ass, his boxer briefs completely exposed as well as a hardon. I was holding the handcuffs attached to his leg irons in front of him.

"Will you comply?" I repeated.

"Yes, I will comply." He said, exasperated or sarcastic, I could not tell. I rolled my eyes. I set the handcuffs down in front of him, stepping around behind him and unlocking the cuffs around his wrists. I stashed them in their holster on my belt, as he brought his hands forward and starting rubbing his wrists. I stepped around in front of him, reaching down to grab the attached cuffs off the ground. That was when he decided to strike.

He stepped forward with his right foot, planting his feet and reached out, putting his hands on my shoulders. He pushed hard, trying to topple me over. Unfortunately for him, I noticed his leg moving and braced. I had been mentally prepared for his, he had been resisting me physically and verbally throughout our entire interaction, and this was not unexpected. And, honestly, welcome because what was about to come next was going to be terrible for Ian.

As he stepped forward, I stepped back, bracing myself with my right foot. He pushed, I ducked lower. His hands slipped off my shoulders, sliding down my back as I drove my shoulder into his waist. His momentum was forward, mine was opposite. The force that my shoulder hit his stomach was doubled and all of the wind was knocked out of him as my shoulder compressed his diaphragm. I continued pushing, starting to angle to the right as he doubled over on top of me. I threw him to the ground to my left, keeping my shoulder against him as he went down.

I quickly disentangled myself from his flailing arms as he recovered from the one-two punch of a shoulder to the midsection and being thrown on his back. I didn't allow him time to recover, quickly continuing the motion by rolling him over onto his back. I dragged his wrists behind his back as he wheezed, still trying to recover his breathing.

I grabbed my hinged cuffs back off my belt and slammed them down around his wrists, cuffing them stacked behind his back, and locking them tightly in place. Another officer rushed over to help, diving down on his legs and pinning them down. I slid my knee into the side of his back, sitting just at the top of his boxer-brief covered butt.

"Ah, fuck, owe. Stop." he managed to croak out.

"Well, that was really, really stupid." I said, after I caught my breath.

"Get the fuck off of me, bro." he said, his breath returning, and his salty mouth returning with it.

"Just calm down and relax man." I said, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder blade. "You are going to jail, and you have just made life exponentially worse for yourself."

The officer pinning his legs grabbed a webbing hobble, and wrapped it around his ankles. Once they were tightly tethered, he stood up, holding onto the excess strap, using it to pull his ankles up behind his back. He wrapped the strap around Ian's cuffs and knotted it, then stood back. I also stood up and backed away once Ian was hogtied. He then removed the now pointless cuffs of the transport set, leaving Ian hogtied with a webbing hobble and hinged cuffs.

"What the fuck? You hogtied me bro? Why? What the fuck did I do?" He started yelling. "Fucking get this off me bro." He rolled onto his side and started flexing at the hips folding himself in half trying to move some part of his body.

"Relax, man". I said, kneeling back down next to him.

"You are so fucked. When I get out of this, I am going to fuck you up so bad."

I nodded my head to the other officer, who knelt back down with me. Together, we rolled Ian back onto his stomach. The other officer at his knees, pinning him down by the calves, I knelt above his head, my knees pushed into his shoulders, holding him down there.

"Get the fuck off me bro, I don't care what you give me, I am not going to suck you off." He yelled, trying to attract more attention with his lies. He continued flexing at the hips, which now looked more like he was just humping the ground. Which might have been what he was trying to do, I could not entirely tell. He had been hard pretty much this entire interaction.

I grabbed under his armpits, the other officer grabbed his lower legs. We lifted him up off the ground, carrying him away from the processing point as he was now causing too much of a scene. We carried him 50 yards over to my squad car parked just past the processing facility and their bus entrance.

He continued yelling and hollering all sorts of crude things to everyone he saw as we went, but his voice started to crack a bit. Without the audience, he quieted down a bit, but pivoted his target back toward me.

"Damn bro, you guys are strong."

"Yeah. I don't know why you decided to fight against a pair of cops built like us, but, seems like you are just a glutton for punishment huh."

"Oh, punish me daddy." He mocked, using his core to try and pull his head and knees together, sticking his butt up in the air more. "You guys really get off to this stuff, don't you? I can see bulge in your pants. It is basically all I can see." He continued, shaking his head around as it was pushed up into my stomach.

"Dude, why are you like this?" I finally asked after we set him down on the pavement next to my cruiser.

"I don't know. You guys are dicks and giving me a hard time for no fucking reason. I am just calling it like I see it."

"No reason being multiple stolen phones on you?"

"Whatever, bro."

I handed off my keys to the other officer, and he unlocked my cruiser, opening the driver's side rear door, before returning. I stayed kneeling on his shoulders over his head, pinning him down. When he returned the other officer untied the strap of the hobble, and carefully unfolded Ian's legs, still holding on tight to the strap.

"Don't try and get squirrely with your legs, you understand." He said, and then proceeded to remove the hobble, allowing him to move his legs finally. Ian laid his legs flat on the ground flexing them trying to work out some of the strains. But, he at least seemed to be complying.

I used my knees, and consequently his shoulders and head, to push myself up to a standing position.

"Ow, get fucked."

I grabbed his shoulders and upper arms pulling him backwards to his knees and then to standing. He shook his head, clearly thankful to no longer be hogtied, and at least physically relaxed, even if his mouth was still going full steam ahead. As we walked, I happened to notic a small dark patch on the front of his otherwise grey boxer briefs.

We helped him sit back into the car, then rotated his legs in. Once he was inside the car, I slammed the door closed and breathed a slight sigh of relief that he was mostly contained.

"What, no seat belt? Come on man?" He started yelling through the barred window. The noise was muffled, but still very clearly audible.

I ignored him, turning and thanking the other officer. He headed off, and I took my seat in the driver's seat of the cruiser.

(Thanks to @adbad77 for the inspiration for this story. And patience as I put together this second chapter.)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

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Reece’s Day in Court

"Next up, the case of the State v. Reece Cain." The clerk called out in the busy courtroom. Reece stood up from his seat near the back of the chamber, sitting on a hard wooden bench.

Reece had gotten a ticket for speeding and evading because he had not heard the cop behind him for a while and just kept driving. When the cop finally hit his rumbler, a really low frequency sound that shook the car, Reece had pulled right over. He tried to be as apologetic and polite with the officer as he could, but it did not save him. So, here he was, on his mandatory court appearance.

Some of his brothers had even decided to join him in court, just for moral support. They had told him he should dress nice for court, so he did, putting on a long-sleeve flannel shirt and finding the best jeans he had without any holes. The guard at the entrance to the court had told him to take off his black Adidas hat, because the judge would want to see his eyes as they spoke. Reece compromised and turned the hat backwards, so at least the bill was in the back. He felt cooler that way anyways. His shoes were some nice high tops.

He had worn a belt that day, because he knew his pants were too big, they were bought they way. He liked sagging, and bought his pants to make sure he looked great with them down below his ass. Keeping them up was not really in his mind. Until now. Unfortunately, his belt had too much metal for the metal detector, and the x-ray machine was down. So, the deputies at the door had just decided to confiscate the belt instead. Reece had been okay, he was able to kind of discretely keep tugging his pants up as he walked, and sitting was not a problem at all.

But, now that he was walking up to the well alone, every eye in the courtroom on him, he felt really self-conscious. He grabbed his pants and hitched them up as high as he could get them as he stood. And he tried to walk slowly, and carefully. It was working okay. He could feel the back slipping down a bit, but, that was not a problem. The judge couldn't see that anyways. He grew more and more scared, though, thinking about having to stand there, in the middle of the empty space in front of the judge's seat, nothing to shield him.

He walked up to the barrier between the seating and well, and a bailiff held the gate open for him so he could walk through. To his right was a table, where the City's attorney sat. The officer that issued him his ticket sat next to

"Alright. Mr. Cain, I see from your file that you are here with us today for a ticket for speeding and evading."

"Yes. But I can explain." Reece started immediately.

"First, you will address this court as Judge, or Your honor." The judge admonished him. "And don't interrupt me. You will know when it is your turn to speak." The judge continued, sternly.

"Sorry." Reece said. Pausing. "Your honor." He added quickly.

"Officer Tenholm, I understand you have a report you made at the time of the citation. Would you like to read that into the record?"

"Yes, your honor." The officer answered, standing. He picked up a set of notes off the desk, and started reading out the information. Reece stood there, nervously, swaying back and forth a bit. It took 10 minutes for the officer to fully read his report in, with the clerk or judge pausing him occasionally to ask questions or get clarification. It was a lot of standing, and Reece was having to shift his weight back and forth to give his feet some rest. His shoes looked really nice, but they were not meant for extending periods of standing.

Reece failed to notice that without his pants, and with his persistent shuffling and swaying, his pants were starting to sag pretty badly. At the back, they were completely below his ass. The front was still holding on, sagging slightly revealing the red waistband and white fabric of his Supreme boxer briefs over his pants, but they were fortunately still hidden by his shirt.

"Alright, Mr. Cain. Now that we have heard the officer's account of the evening, do you have anything you wish to add."

"Yes... your honor. I wasn't trying to evade the officer. My music was just kind of loud, and I was really focused."

"That is not really an excuse for failure to yield when a police officer has his lights on and is trying to pull you over."

"Oh, come on. Like you were never my age and just rocking your music and having a good time in your muscle car." Reece whined, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I bet everyone here has been out in a Mustang, just tooling around hearing the rev of the engine and feeling the power." He continued, gesturing widely and wildly. "This is just normal stuff for frat guys like me." He said, gesturing back to the row of his friends sitting on the bench.

All of this moving and gesturing had been great for the persuasive nature of his speech, maybe, but it did not do anything for his modesty. His pants slipped down further, his shirt pulled up with his arms, and he white and red boxer briefs were on full display to the judge.

"Excuse me. Is this what you think is appropriate dress for court, young man? Showing off your underwear to everyone"

"Uh, no, I am sorry." He said, starting to tug his shirt down and when that failed he started to reach for his jeans.

"No!" The judge said, sharply. "You have showed a clear disrespect for this court and our time and attention. I am holding you in contempt."

The Reece froze, slightly bent over. His pants midway down his thighs. The officer behind him stepped up and grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back. "No, please, I am sorry. They took my belt. I can't." Reece begged, as the officer slapped the metal cuffs around his wrists.

The bailiff kicked his legs apart and started frisking Reece. "You have anything on you that is going to poke me, stick me, stab me?" He asked, holding onto Reece's cuffs with one hand as the other ran itself down his arms, over his chest and stomach, then down over his crotch and ass and into his pockets. That didn't help anything, and just pushed his pants a little further down his legs.

"I think a night down in county will do you well." The judge, continued.

The bailiff grabbed Reece by the elbow, leading him over to a bench against the wall the left side of the courtroom. He had Reece sit, and attached the cuffs on his wrists to a bolt in the wall, forcing Reece to stay seated there.

The kept Reece cuffed to the bench for several hours, before the court broke for lunch and the bailiff finally released him from the wall. He was walked back out of the courtroom the same way he came in, past all of the gathered people there for their court hearings. His frat brothers were of course taking pictures of him as he walked past them, the unsupportive dicks.

Reece was walked to a bus full of other guys headed to county. Most of them, though, wore orange scrubs, as they were more permanently housed there. "This is going to be a long night." Reece thought, settling into the seat, hating having to sit on his still cuffed arms.

Saggin the supremes again.

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Part 5- Kidnapped in a BMW

Abducted by @tyler-lawson

What seems like hours later, I am slowly awakened to being unchained from the cage. His forehead presses onto my gas mask looking directly into my eyes as his breath fogs up the lens of the mask.

“Bad news. I am afraid that your flight as been cancelled…. And you will be staying with me for a while longer.”

The smile on his face means he cancelled it himself, but my cock trying to swell into the locked chastity device is certainly not complaining.

He drags the black leather sleepsack into the closet and begins to unwrap the chains from my legs. I shake my head several times and try to push the gag out of my mouth but it’s locked and molded inside and impossible to move. Once he unwraps the chains from my legs they immediately get pushed down into the sleepsack. I rattle the chains from my wrist in protest.

His head once again leads forward into my eyes of the gas mask.

“Don’t worry those chains will come off in a few minutes. Now we can play the easy way or the hard way. Are you going to be good when I remove the chains from your hands?”

I try to give a very straight face but he knows I’m nothing but trouble. He gets more chloroform ready to add to the rag attached to the hose of the gas mask. I shake my head moaning and pleading through the gag that I would be good.

He puts the bottle down but keeps it nearby. He begins to unchain my hands and slowly and unwraps all of the chain from around my torso and body.

“Give me your hands, nice and slow and do not make any fast moves or you will be sleeping no again in just a few minutes”

I slowly move my arms forward from behind. He turns around to grab some restraints and I know I only have two seconds. I take my padded hands and quickly put them over his head and twist his arms. After a few minutes of scuffling on the floor, I am able to pull my legs from out of the sleeping bag and roll over and shut the closet door and dart into one of the bedrooms where there is a fire door. My padded hands try to open the door when the alarm goes off. It is obnoxious and loud. I realize I may not be able to climb the ladder with these mitts locked on my hands and run back down the hallway about the same time as the closet door swung open. He tries to grab my leg but barely misses. I begin farting up the stairs and running for the main door but it’s locked. I get jiggling it with my padded hands and messing with the lock but it won’t open.

“MPPHHFUCK,” I attempt to say through the locked, molded gag inside my mouth. I am able to pull the gas mask off of my head and throw it on the floor.

Suddenly the alarm turns off but there is no sound from Tyler. I know I am locked inside this house and he could sneak up on me at any second. Either way, I am screwed. I slowly sneak up another flight of stairs and hide in one of the bedroom closets. I try to stand flat inside the closet against the wall and the door. I try to stay as still as possible as five minutes goes by… 10…15. There is still no sign of Tyler.

I slowly emerge from the closet and Tyler is sitting on the bed with the bedroom door shut and locked, and with an evil look on his face. I come over slowly and kneel in front of him and put my padded hands behind my back.

His gloved hands rub my beard and the side of my face as he smiles at me.

“That was … cute. But, did you really think you were going to escape from this house? You know how much I love security and locks.”

He grabs me with his arms and holds me into a cuddle. His gloved hands rub my beard again and the molded gag locked inside my mouth, admiring how I cannot make a sound.

He then quickly takes his gloved hands and pulls my padded hands above my head as he drags me further up the bed and locks them to a chain that is already secured to the bed frame. This was not shocking as I have been locked to this bed before many times and know all about his restraints onto the bed. He then unlocks the molded gag from my head and the large gag slowly pulls out of my mouth. Before I could say anything, a thick leather hood with a muzzle is pulled over my face. He quickly ties the strings in the back and then adjusts all the buckles around the head and underneath the jaw to make sure I cannot make a sound. I hear the dangling of more chains as they are added to each ankle and locked to each corner of the bed frame. I try moving my hands and legs but I know it’s useless.

His gloved hands then rub my hooded face and his fingers slide all the way down to my locked cock as he playfully slaps my balls and wiggles the chastity device, reminding me that I am his prisoner. The door shuts and locks behind him as I am in the dark trying to move around in the chains. They are much more restrictive than any time we have played, but I realize this is punishment.

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped in a BMW (Part 4)

Featuring Abductor @tyler-lawson After lots of cuddles with his tight leather-gloved hands around me, Tyler slowly helps me up from the hot tub and guides me back downstairs to the cage in a dark closet. I had originally helped him put this cage together before, but he tightened all of the screws to the cage and it is now chained to a pole in the room. Fuck, he already knew what I could do because I tested it out when we first put it together several months ago. I am slowly guided into the metal cage and he begins chaining my body still covered in a wetsuit to the cage. He begins to wrap the ankles. You can feel the warm, tight leather gloved hand with each wrap of the chain, four, five, six, ten, twelve times until the ankle is completely wrapped and is chain is padlocked to the metal cage. He proceeds to do the same with the next ankle and wraps it tightly to the cage. Another set of chains is applied from my chastity belt to the torso area, and slowly moved to underneath my armpits and padlocked to the top of the cage. He begins to reach for my padded wrists but I pull away. He begins punching my stomach and mildly beating my abs until I give him both of my wrists.

“AHHHH you fuck-MPPPPPH” – suddenly a tight gloved hand moves over the mouth to muffle my screams.

“Who told you that you could talk, toy?” I look into his eyes and feel hypnotized. He literally can get away with anything he wants – he already has. He grabs my wrists, puts them behind my back and begins threading the chains through the locks of the padded mitts. He wraps chain around my wrists several more times before threading them through the bars of the cage and adding a large padlock. Suddenly the gloved hand moves toward my mouth and pries it open and a large silicone gag is slowly pushed inside. This gag is very strict and basically molds inside your mouth and holds down your tongue. Wide black duct tape is then wrapped around the head several times to keep the silicone gag in place. “mph-gulp” is the only sound that I can make. I shake my head “NO” repeatedly but his gloved hand keeps rubbing my face and head.

He gets up and shuts the door behind him, leaving me in complete darkness. I begin to move my padded hands around trying to find a way to get the chains off my wrists, but they are tightly chained to the back of the cage. I rattle the cage several times by rocking it back and forth.

Tyler returns and turns the light on. I squint my eyes as I notice that he now has on a pair of black latex gloves and holding a bottle, cloth, and a gas mask. He unlocks the cage door and makes me watch as he opens the bottle labeled chloroform and the substance slowly soaks the rag. He then tapes the rag to the hose of the gas mask. I shake my head repeatedly and try to scream but the silicone gag won’t let me make one sound. The gas mask is slowly strapped onto my head. I try to hold my breath as long as I can, but I suddenly take a deep breath and inhale the strong, sweet substance. I moan through the large gag molded into my mouth as he straps the gas mask tightly onto my head. He presses his forehead onto the mask and looks into my eyes and I begin fighting by shaking my head back and forth. I begin to feel very sleepy as the chloroform kicks in and he has a big grin on his face. That is the last thing I remember as I am knocked out cold.

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Tailgating - 01

For many, the college football match between State and Metro was the biggest event of the year. The stadium had capacity for 50,000 people, and it was also booked to overflowing for the event. For me, State v Metro just meant sweet overtime and having to deal with a bunch of drunk frat bros. And this year was no exception.

I was assigned to monitor the parking lot, and that meant being at the event extra early to try and keep a lid on the tailgaters so the festivities don't get out of hand. I was out walking the lot when I got a call from dispatch that CCTV had identified a male subject suspected of stealing phones and other small, high-value items from revellers when they were not paying attention. They were tracking him, and he was just two car rows over from me.

I quickly ducked over, pushing through a couple of groups of partiers before I got a glimpse of him. 20, maybe, black shirt, black NYC baseball hat, black skinny jeans. He was sagging his black jeans over a pair of grey boxer briefs. Holding two phones, and it looked like he had a few others stashed around his pants.

I plotted his likely route, and ducked over one more row, hoping to get ahead of him. My plan worked, and I saw him step out just one car ahead of me. "Police! Stop!" I call out. He glances behind himself and sees me. He calculates things a bit in his head before stopping.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes, sir, I am." I said stepping up to him. "I am going to need you to put your hands behind your back." I say, grabbing one of his wrists.

He pulls his wrist away from me quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let go of me. You have no right to stop me. I didn't do anything wrong." He complained, looking me up and down and sizing me up.

I take a half step back. I am a couple inches taller than him, and looking down on him slightly. "I can stop you, detain you and obtain your identification. State statute 26.1 - a."

"I don't care about your fucking statutes. I didn't do anything. You have no right to stop me." He repeats, stepping back and starting to turn.

I step up to him, grabbing his shoulders and slam his body against the hood of the pickup truck he was standing next to. He flings his hands out and smacks them against the hood, his chest bent over the hood.

"Fuck, man. That hurt. This is police brutality. What is your badge number?" He starts, speaking quickly and raising his voice.

I grab his right wrist off the hood of the truck and yank it behind his back. He picks up his foot instinctively feeling the pain of his being forced behind his back. I unbuckle my cuffs and unfold them, slapping one around his wrist. I hit the button on them to double-lock them. I hold the hinged cuffs behind his back, twisting his wrist painfully up behind his back. I starts wriggling and stretches his left arm straight up past his head, trying to keep his hand away from me.

"What the hell man? Help me, please!" He yells out.

"Sir, give me your other arm." I instruct, grabbing his elbow and starting to apply pressure to it.

He continues flailing his arm above his head.

"You can't do this. I am innocent."

"Sir, I am just detaining you so I can get your ID. Just give me your hand." I say. I stick my knee behind his, and begin pressing in against his quad. I continue twisting his arm up behind his back, it is now bent at a 45 degree angle at the elbow, his hand helplessly flapping around trying to grab onto something.

"Ow! Fuck! My arm! You are going to break it."

"Stop resisting and put your hands behind your back." I continue instructing.

He keeps flailing, but one of the moves pushing his elbow just far enough down that I am able to get a grip and force it backward. I pull it back in a chicken-wing position, then reach my hand through his elbow and grab his wrist.

"Ow! Fuck, man. Stop hurting me." He started to whine as I grabbed his wrist and painfully pivoted it, pulling it behind his back. I drag his wrist painstakingly behind his back, until it is close enough and I can slam it into the waiting cuff. I hit the button to double-lock the other cuff and relax somewhat.

I continue holding my knee against his leg and my shoulder pushing against the center of his back, holding him against the hood of the truck. "Bravo 17-1, one in custody." I call into my wrist-mounted microphone. The response comes back into my earpiece. "Copy Bravo 17-1. Standing by for ID confirmation."

I turn back to my captive. "Sir, as I said, I am detaining you for failing to produce identification." I start feeling for his wallet, rubbing my hands across his boxer-brief clad ass until I realize that he is sagging and his back pockets are much lower. I move my hands down and start digging around for his wallet, which unfortunately for him happens to tug his sagging pants further down until they are almost completely below his ass. I grab a phone from each pocket, glance at them, and put them up on the hood of the truck.

"Jesus, buy me dinner first, dude." He says, clenching his ass in my hands.

"Sir, where is your ID?" I ask, trying to present a professional front as I am enjoying groping his restrained body.

"Front right pocket, asshole." He says, almost indignant. I reach around and start digging my hands into his pocket, finding a wallet and extracting it along with another 2 phones. I flip it open.

"Can I get an ID check on an Ian Banks? DL# 157-8824-90?" I say again, into my wrist. "Sir, do you want to tell me why you are carrying around 4 different phones?"

"Yeah. Your boss calls me on that one, and your dad uses this one." He replies sarcastically.

I roll my eyes and continue holding him against the car as he struggles and squirms.

"Bravo 17-1, ID confirmed. He has two priors, DUI and shoplifting." I hear in my earpiece.

"Alright, Mr. Banks. Right now I am going to arrest you on suspicion of theft."

"What?! Why?" He asks incredulous. "Just cause your boss likes to come down and get some?"

"Sir, you are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?"

"You can understand my dick." He says back.

"I will just take that as a yes." I say, grabbing the phones and slipping them into a pocket of my pants.

"I am going to search you now. Do you have anything on you that is going to poke me, stick me, stab me?"

"Yeah, right in front. That can stab you whenever you want." He spits back.

I pull him off the hood of the car, using the chain of his cuffs to pull his wrists up behind his back. I twist the cuffs against his wrists, pushing the steel bracelets against the bone. He stands briefly, before collapsing to his knees in pain.

"Ow, fuck. Stop. Stop. Fuck."

I grab his hat and visually check it, before dropping it on the ground next to him. I keep twisting the cuffs with one hand while I use my other to brush over his shirt, down his arms, over his chest and pecs, down his abs, along his ribs and down his back. I move lower. Moving my hand over his boxer-brief clad ass again, him flexing from the pain.

"So, you said you had something up here that was going to stick me?" I asked, innocently, moving my hand over his right hip to his crotch. I felt his package, he was clearly turned on, a small wet patch had formed on the right side of front. I carefully moved my hand over his dick, down to his balls, and along his taint.

"Damn, I haven't had this much action since your dad stopped by last night. Ow, fuck." he quipped.

I twisted the cuffs again against his wrists, sending more waves of pain long his arms.

"Seems like you are enjoying this, sir." I said, quietly, my face next to his ear.

"Take the cuffs off and I could give you some good action." He spat back.

"I don't need to take the cuffs off, bitch." I said.

I continued my frisk down to his sagging jeans, my hands digging into each of his pockets. I find another 3 phones in various pockets along with his keys.

"You know what sagging your pants like this means in prison, right?" I asked, grabbing his ass and squeezing. His pants are now completely below his ass after my frisk.

"Yeah, I have been there before. I can get along just fine." He says back, defiantly.

I continue frisking down his legs, lifting each foot off the ground and digging my fingers into his shoes as he kneels there. I find a small bag of marijuana in his shoe and slide it into my pocket as well.

"Looks like I am going to be adding drug possession to your list of crimes."

"Bravo 17-1, will be bringing back a male subject for processing."

"Copy, muster point 3 has a bus waiting."

"Alright, bad boy, get on your feet, let's walk." I say, twisting the cuffs the other way as I drag him to standing. I use the cuffs to guide him through the parking lot, past many of the tailgaters he was just a few moments ago stealing from. Many of them took out their phones to get pictures and videos. Some were already talking to their phones and started commentating the view.

I led my prisoner to a grassy area where there was a transport bus waiting to collect prisoners. We had chairs set up on the grass, I walked him over and forced him to sit down in one. He immediately slid down and spread his legs, lounging as another officer walked over with processing paperwork. The other officer and I conferred over him. He snapped a quick picture of the punk, lounging and sagging his dick still rock hard and outlined by his tight boxer briefs.

Once we finished, another officer brought over a set of transport cuffs and handed them to me. I let the leg irons drop to the ground, holding onto the handcuffs. The chain between the handcuffs and leg irons snapped as they reached the full length.

"Stand up." I ordered, grabbing his elbow and dragging him back to his feet. I stood behind him. "Give me your left foot."

He complied, lifting his foot off the ground. I grabbed his ankle, locked one of the cuffs around it, then let it drop back down. "Other foot." He complied, and I locked the cuff around his other ankle. I let his foot drop, then passed the handcuffs through his legs, so that I was holding them in front of him.

"If you are compliant, I will let you have your wrists in front of you on the bus." I said.

He looked down at them, then back at me.

(Is he smart enough to be a submissive prisoner, or is he going to get the full treatment? To be continued...)

(Thanks to @adbad77 for the photos and inspiration.)

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped in a BMW (Part 3)

Kidnapped by @tyler-lawson After trying to get into a comfortable position in the leather sleepsack, I hear the door open. He comes over to the bed, unlocks my muzzle, and adjusts a few of the straps on the sleepsack so I can sit on the bed. As he looks over me on the bed, I notice he has changed into a black wetsuit. It’s tight across his body and fits him perfectly. I also think he’s up to something but I haven't figured out exactly what yet.

His black-gloved hands hold a plate with a turkey and ham sandwich, garden salad, Greek yogurt, and water.

“I got to make sure my prisoner remains healthy and hydrated!” He proceeds to hold the sandwich in his hand to handfeed me.

“Oh, come on, I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Tyler stares at me with a grin on his face and proceeds to put the sandwich to my mouth. I take a few bites of the sandwich and he gives me water to wash it down.

“You know the rules, boy. You are an object when you are under my care. Besides, you’ve tried to get away before and prisoners cannot be trusted.”

I continue to eat my sandwich.

“I have not the slightest idea of what you’re talking about,” I say without trying to crack a smile as I am eating.

I finish eating my food and he wipes my face with a towel.

“So, I am going to get you out of the sleepsack, and we are going to go to the spa where you can relax for a bit.” He continues to wipe my face with a huge grin on his face.

I stare at him as he mentions the spa and admiring his tight black wetsuit.

“Just what the hell is up your sleeves, Tyler? I know you are up to something.”

He glares at me for a moment and he gets very close to my face.

“WHAT did you just call me? That is NOT what you call me.”

I stare at him and realize the mistake I made. His eyes turned a yellowish tint and could tell that he got mad.

“I am sorry, Warden, Kidnapper, Sir. I forgot my place and I guess I need to be shown my place as I am your piece of property.”

His gloved hand lightly slaps the side of my face and runs his gloved hand to my locked chastity device.

“That’s right boy. I think you need to be shown your place and where you belong. I still don’t think you have grasped that understanding just yet. It’s almost like you never want to leave since you keep making mistakes.”

I glare at him as he continues to grin at my locked cock in chastity. It hurts and I want out of this little prison so badly. He jiggles the keys in his pockets.

“Well, I mean I wouldn’t mind if –”

Suddenly his gloved hand clamps over my mouth. “SILENCE. Must you always reply or question everything I say?”

Tyler begins to unstrap me from the leather sleepsack by unbuckling all of the straps. He slowly pulls me out with his gloved hands holding me steadily as I slide out of the sack and my feet land back onto the floor. He then proceeds to push me onto my knees.

“This is where you belong, on your knees, like any prisoner. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Kidnapper Sir.”

He then attaches a leash to my collar and yanks me up from the floor and proceeds to lead me slowly up the stairs. He glares into my eyes with every step making sure that I don’t make one unusual move. We finally reach the spa room and there’s a rubber suit already laid out on the chair, along with other restraints.

Tyler unzips the wetsuit that was on the chair and helps to glide me into the suit. It is very form-fitting and tight, but the material feels very good. He zips it up from the back and then proceeds to put fist mitts on my hands. He grabs one hand and slowly pushes the hand into the mitt and locks it. Once he does the same procedure with my other hand, he then takes a chain and wraps it around my fisted mitts to around my waist and locks them together. I cannot lift my hands above my waist.

Tyler helps to guide me into the spa. The water is very warm but not too hot – it is at a very comfortable temperature. He proceeds to sit down and then turns me around to where my back is facing him and slowly lowers me as his legs lock my lower body.

I am very tense, because I know what he’s going to do. We have talked about some type of waterboarding for a while as it’s also his fantasy, too. His gloved hands rub my body all over to ease the stress and anxiety.

“I know what I am doing and I promise you will be okay. Do you understand me, boy?”

I shake my head reluctantly, but I know that I can trust him. I take a deep breath and hold it and his gloved hands dunks my head into the water. My ears begin to pop and fill with water. My head is completely submerged into the water and I try to bring my head up but he is too strong. After 5 seconds (seemed like eternity,) he lifts my head up and I begin to breathe as the water from my ears begins to pour out. I take several deep breaths and look at him and he slowly begins to lower me, so I quickly take another deep breath. This time, he dunks my head repeatedly into the water – one second in and one second out. He does this three or four times. As I begin to cough, he lifts my head and holds me to his chest.

“Relax. You are doing just fine. Just breathe.”

I take several more breaths and compose myself and I nod my head to continue. He begins to slowly lower me into the water and I take a deep breath before my head is submerged into the water. His hand holds my head into the water ten seconds. I am counting and I am starting to panic, which I am sure is the game he likes to play. I begin kicking and trying to pull my hands above the waist and he suddenly lifts my head from out of the water. I take a deep breath and he immediately dunks my head back into the water several times for one to two second intervals.

“Good boy. You are doing excellent.”

He locks his arms around my upper body and pulls me close to him and holds me tight.

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped in a BMW (Part 2)

Part 2 - From Cage to Sleepsack @tyler-lawson

The sun shines through the downstairs windows. I slowly awaken with the reminder that I can barely move – chains attached and locked all across my body and connected to the cage. The last time I was in this cage, I was able to use my body weight to roll it around across the floor, but he has attached a chain and padlocked it to an eyebolt on the floor. He knows my tricks all too well.

I hear yawning and footsteps coming down the stairs, and the sound of Tlyer slipping on his leather gloves over his hands. “Good morning, my prisoner” he says with an evil grin on his face. He unlocks the two locks on the cage, opens the door, and proceeds to pet my muzzled face as the gloved hand strokes my hair and cheek.

“Thirsty boy?”

I moan and shake my head yes and try to get into a comfortable position but the chains remind me that I have no control. He smiles at me trying to move out of the predicament I’m in and enjoys his bondage work. He begins to unlock all the straps from my muzzle and starts removing the buckles from the loops. As the gag becomes to come out of the mouth, his gloved hand immediately clamps my mouth closed.

“You are here for looks only and no sound, do we understand each other.”

I give him a huge eyeroll and shake my head yes.

“I promise that you will regret the eyeroll later.”

Tyler then brings a bottle with a straw to my mouth and releases the gloved hand from my lips. I begin to drink the Gatorade through the straw. I am extremely thirsty and finish the entire bottle.

He puts his gloved hand back over my mouth and takes his other hand and begins unchaining the lock from the eyebolt attached to the floor. He slowly takes one hand and begins moving the cage into the spare bedroom. A medium sized leather sleepsack awaits on the bed, with chains already attached and locked to the bed mattress and frame.

“Remember, not a word while I unchain you from this cage, or I promise you will regret it. Do not underestimate me boy. Got it?” He says this with a very stern look. I shake my head yes, but he knows I will probably say something, because I never listen. Of course, that is a price I will likely have to pay later.

After unchaining my body from the cage, Tyler grabs me by the hair and my legs and knees move from out of the cage.

“OUCH DAMNIT, that hurts,” screaming as I am being pulled from the cage.

Tyler gives an evil grin on his face. “I thought I told you not to say anything.”

“You only did that so – MPPPPHMPPPH”

His face inches closer to the side of my face as his gloved hand keeps my mouth shut.

“I can and will do ANYTHING I want to you because you like me. Isn’t that right, boy?”

If my cock wasn’t standing to attention by this point, something must be very wrong with me. But, I could feel my cock throbbing and leaking, so we didn’t have to worry about that. But, just checking.

I look at him directly in his eyes and give him the most submissive look as I shake my head yes.

Tyler lifts me from off the floor and takes my legs and lower body and pushes me into the leather sleepsack. It feels a big cold but the leather feels absolutely amazing. I have a feeling that he bought this one size smaller than I am to make sure I never escape because I have very little movement already and he hasn’t even zipped it up. He glides each arm into the sleeves on the side of the sleepsack and then positions my head onto the pillow. His leather-gloved hand begins to slowly take the zipper and slowly move up my body all the way to my neck. He pulls out large bondage belts. He takes the first belt and moves it over my ankles and pulls on it tightly to where I cannot move them. He proceeds with a second bondage belt and adds it just above the first belt. He then proceeds with two additional bondage belts and applies one just below and just above the knees, pulling very tightly before fastening the belt. Two more belts are wrapped around my wrists, and two more are around my shoulders. I begin moaning and groaning, trying to wiggle but the only thing I can move is my head. He then lifts my head as he applies vet wrap around my eyes and head. The orange vet wrap is wrapped numerous times around my eyes and then he moves it around my head from the top and slowly moves the wrap around my jaw and works it back up to the top of the head again. He repeats this process at least ten times.

“Sleep secured by boy.” His gloved hand slides down the leather sleepsack, making creaking noises and slowly reaches my cock. He rubs it for a minute as I moan and groan and then disappears.

I remain still for several minutes to make sure he is not in the room. After I cannot hear him, I begin to struggle. I left my head up repeatedly and try to pull my body from the leather sleepsack, but the belts are so tight that I cannot move an inch. I wiggle back and forth but all I can hear are the locks and chains clinging to the bedframe. I start to moan loudly, trying to get out of the sleepsack, but it’s impossible.

As I continue moving my head I suddenly feel a gloved hand clamp over my mouth.

“MPPPHHMPPH!!””

I can feel something HUGE with his other gloved hand as it slides underneath the one over my mouth. I repeatedly shake my head no and keep my lips shut tight. I try to turn my head in the opposite direction but the gloved hands over my face follow my every move. After pinching my nose shut for several inches my lips open slightly to breathe and a massive ball moves into my mouth and over my tongue. The squishy ball begins to expand inside my mouth, molding and forming the inside of my mouth to where I can no longer speak. Vet wrap is wrapped around my lips and head repeatedly, at least twenty times. I can hear him open another roll of vet wrap and he uses the entire roll to wrap several more layers from the top of my head to my jaw. I try to move my jaw to speak but the ball inside my mouth is so huge and the vet wrap is so tight, it’s absolutely impossible to form a word or even make a moaning sound.

"Awww the orange vet wrap matches your hot prison uniform. You know how much I like color coordination. Everything must match or at least be close, and now it looks hot over your redhead and red beard." Tyler takes his gloved hand and gently rubs my orange-cocooned face.

Once again, his gloved hand slides slowly down to my cock and rubs my extremely hard erection. I feel like I am going to orgasm and I shake my head violently to try to tell him, and he suddenly stops.

“Oh, I almost forgot to secure your head. I am so glad you warned me!”

I moan and shake my head no, but it was too late. The gloved hands move the muzzle tightly over my mouth and begins to attach the buckles around my head. The bottom buckles apply more pressure to my jaw, and the top buckles secure the rest of the muzzle. It is extremely tight to the point that I can only breathe.

*Squirt squirt*

Tyler suddenly jolts back as I begin to release a load. He can barely hear my moans through the vet wrap and tight muzzle. He can see my body reaction as I wiggle.

“NO ONE TOLD YOU TO CUM, PRISONER!” His gloved hands slap my balls repeatedly. I try to wiggle and shift my body away from his gloved hands but it’s useless at this point. I moan and whimper like a puppy dog and he eventually stops.

After wiping my cock with a towel, I suddenly feel something cold and steel applied around my balls. Oh shit, he bought a chastity device..... I shake my head repeatedly, but he doesn't stop. He works the steel over my limp cock and applies the lock.

“You have now disobeyed me three times. The prisoner will suffer. I have so many plans for you for the next week and the only time you will use that cock is to pee.”

Tyler then proceeds to take a chain and attach it to the muzzle and lock it to the bed frame. I hear the door close, and he walks back up the stairs.

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped in a BMW

Kidnapped by @tyler-lawson kinda/sorta/will be a true story Part 1

I knew I was going to get kidnapped, but I didn’t know how or when. Of course, I would send Tyler very blunt messages of where I was traveling and for how long. I would even share my location – hell, he’s even tracked my plane from take off to touching down.

I decided to take a trip to his city. He said he was going to be busy with his friends and not going to be hone. That could be very true, since he is constantly on the go. So, I thought nothing about it. I landed at the airport, took the train towards the city, then got off the train and waited for an uber. It was after midnight, and I was all alone on the side street. Suddenly I hear “Vrooom” with bright lights shining in my face and the car slamming on breaks in front of me. A black figure gets out of a dark BMW. I try to run, but his black tight leather gloved hand grabs me and holds my mouth as the trunk pops open. He zip ties my wrists tightly and attaches them to an eyebolt on the side of the car, and then zip ties my ankles and attaches them to my ankles. He takes a piece of duct tape and quickly puts it over my mouth. The trunk slams shut and he quickly gets inside the car. Suddenly, my back gets pushed to the side of the trunk as the other guy accelerates and goes 0 to 80 mph in 4 seconds. He zigzags and takes the curves wild and jumps on the 280 and accelerates onto the onramp like some maniac. I am pretty sure this is Tyler and I have a sneaky suspicion of who is driving the BMW, too

He continues to zigzag like crazy until he gets back to his house. I can hear the garage doors open and Tyler getting out of the car. By that point, I already managed to get the duct tape partially off my lips, which he knew I was good at doing. Now, here is my chance to scream. The trunk door pops open and he quickly takes the muzzle with a hug gag and pushes it to my lips as he pulls off the duct tape. His other gloved hand clamps my nose shut and I open my mouth and he quickly jams the gag into my mouth and attaches the muzzle around my head and tightly clinches the jaw. There was absolutely no way I was getting out of this muzzle. He proceeds to cut the zip tie attached to the eyebolt to the car and pulls me out. His assistant puts me over his shoulders and carries me inside.

He slowly takes me downstairs with Tyler following behind with a black balaclava over his head and wearing a police uniform and black boots. He puts me on the playroom floor and holds me down while Tyler cuts the zip ties off my hands. His assistant then begins to unbutton my shirt and pull it off, while Tyler removes my shoes and then pulls off my jeans, leaving me only in my black boxers. He then takes the orange prison jumpsuit and puts it on my body. I try to move, but both are applying their weight and it’s impossible for me to make a move to escape. After the jumpsuit is on, Tyler immediately grabs my right wrist and snaps the bow of the cuff onto it, and then grabs my left hand. I try to pull my left hand away and push it to the side until he grabs me by the balls. “MPPPPPPH” – I moaned as loud as I could into the muzzle gag (which was not loud at all) and I hesitantly gave him my left arm so he could apply the handcuff onto my wrist and lock them together. He adds a blue box with another chain that now wraps around my waist. His assistant begins to wrap around my upper arms, and elbows, with many, many wraps until I was encased in chains. They have had a shopping spree at the Homo Depot, because I don’t recall him having this amount of chains before. Suddenly, my knees are enchased in chains and shackles are added to my ankles. I am suddenly pulled from behind and into a cage. They both work hard to secure me to the cage by adding more chains around my body and looping them through the cage. Tyler gets in the cage for a minute to inspect his work. His gloved hands move all over my muzzled mouth and slides down to my crotch. Of course, I am a very happy camper. He reaches for a gas mask with the eyes blacked out and applies it over my head. He makes sure I cannot get it off as he attaches a collar around my neck and loops a chain to the gas mask. He then attaches the hose to the gas mask and is fooling with it. I am not sure what he’s doing but I suddenly smell this awful smell – dirty socks. They are absolutely awful and they are placed into a sneaker and duct taped around the hose of the gas mask. “MPPPPPH” my head thrashes around trying to move the sock off the hose, but it’s impossible as it's duct-taped on tightly. “Good night, my prisoner!” is the last and ONLY word I hear from his mouth, and I can feel the door shut and lock with two large padlocks. Suddenly I can sense the lights are turned off and he shuts the playroom door. I try to shift my body weight to move one of the bars, trying to see if I can remove the chains, but it’s impossible. I adjust myself and try to get some sleep, which is impossible from smelling these awful dirty socks. It’s going to be a very long night. To be continued

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tyler-lawson · 1 year

Photo

Detention

19-year old Ian Ford strode past the security guard at the entrance to the American Eagle shop. He walked with swagger, his black Adidas hat on backwards, a gold chain around his neck. He wore a black Nike t-shirt at least one size to small for him, some baggy Levi's sagging over his black Polo boxers and white Nike AF1 sneakers.

After some recent incidents, the stores had hired security, but Ian was not worried. Sure, he was there to run a little five-finger discount, but he had a foolproof plan. He strode back, grabbing a shirt off the rack, pink and orange with a nice beach scene. Perfect for the beach bonfire he was headed to that night. He grabbed a couple other random shirts and walked into a fitting room.

He spent the next 20 minutes doing a little mini fashion show for himself and the fitting room attendant, changing shirts and walking out, strutting up and down the aisle checking himself out in the mirror in every different angle and lighting. When he figured he had completely confounded the attendant's and security guard's memory of what he was wearing when he walked in, he grabbed his chosen shirt, put it on, leaving his dirty Nike shirt at the bottom of the pile of other shirts from his fashion show. He piled them all in the fitting room, and walked out, loudly proclaiming to all that could hear that he just didn't find anything better than what he had walked in with.

As Ian walked toward the door, still slowly browsing on his way out, he didn't see the attendant walk into the room and start rifling though the pile of discards. By the time Ian had just about reached the door, the attendant had already found the abandoned Nike shirt, completely out of place. He radioed the guard at the door, who was waiting as Ian started to walk out.

The guard stood blocking Ian's path. "Mind if I check your receipt." The guard asked, innocently.

"Oh, no, I didn't end up buying anything today." Ian lied easily, doing his best to slide past the guard.

"I think you meant to." The guard said ominously, though Ian missed the implied threat.

"Nah, nothing was quite right." Ian said, holding out his arms and pushing the guard away.

"Let me rephrase." The guard said, grabbing Ian's arm and twisting it behind his back. "I am detaining you for shoplifting."

"Oh fuck! What the hell!" Ian yelled as he was guided back into the store by the guard. He was shoved into the store, and force-marched back through to the recently abandoned fitting room, where the attendant stood, the shirt laid out on the bench. The other customers in the store all took notice of the commotion, and the boy being marched through the store.

When they got to the fitting room, Ian was shoved inside, the guard blocking the only way out. "You were wearing that shirt when you walked in here, clearly not one our store sells." The guard explained pointing to the black shirt with the immediately recognizable swish. "So, here is what is going to happen. You are going to take that shirt off and you are going to wait here until the police arrive." The guard explained.

"Fine, here." Ian huffed, pulling the pastel beach shirt off, and throwing it at the guard, leaving Ian shirtless, his pants sagging low and completely exposing his boxers. Ian tried to use that as a distraction to push past the guard, but instead found himself slammed against the wall of the fitting room, his back up against the wall with an arm pressed against his throat. The guard unclipped a pair of handcuffs off his belt, and slapped them around Ian's wrists, locking them together in front.

"Well now I get to report you for assault and battery as well." The guard noted. "If you don't calm down, it will only get worse for you from here." He said. He grabbed Ian by the elbow and led him out into the store, and shoved him in a corner, blocked in by the guard but completely visible to the rest of the customers who wanted to wander by and catch a glimpse of the cuffed miscreant. He bowed his head and clasped his hands together, trying half-heartedly to hide his cuffs from the onlookers.

Ian stood there shirtless, and sagging his jeans low over his black boxers for 15 minutes before an officer finally walked into the store.

***

I introduced myself to the store guard. "Officer Lawson. Nice to see you again Gary. So, this your shoplifter?"

"Yes, sir. Loss prevention has put together the security cam footage for you if you want to go over it."

"Eh, I probably don't need to. But I will take it and hand it off to the DA. That stuff makes it so much easier for them, you know?"

"Well, then. I guess he is all yours. I would also like to report him for assualting me after I tried to detain him."

"Oh, getting real feisty today, eh?" I asked the boy. He refused to acknowledge me, continuing to stand with his hands clasped together and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. "Well, why don't you get your cuffs off him and I can get him properly arrested, then we can deal with all that." I instructed the guard.

The guard removed his cuffs, and I ordered the boy to put his hands on top of his head and turn around. I then pulled out my cuffs and quickly brought his wrists down behind him, restraining him more securely with my cuffs behind his back.

I pushed Ian up against the wall and searched him, pulling his hat off and checking under it before returning it to his head. I then skipped his torso as there wasn't much to search, proceeding to feeling his boxer-clad ass and crotch before checking his pockets. I pulled out his phone, wallet, and keys, and bagged them all. I then frisked his legs before standing back up.

"Ian Ford." I half-asked, half-stated, reading off his license. I paused for a moment but he did not respond, continuing to face the wall in stony silence. "You are under arrest for shoplifting, assault, and battery. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you." I repeated robotically.

I grabbed Ian by the elbow and turned him to face the store. He struggled briefly, trying to escape my grasp. I grabbed both of his elbows and pulled them high up behind his back, forcing him to double over. I then wrapped my around both of them, then stood next to him and proceeded to walk the boy out of the store, his arms flexed behind his back, walking doubled-over, his boxer-covered ass sticking straight up in the air as he shuffled along next to me. Several customers got out their phones and recorded our procession as I frog-marched the boy out to my cruiser before finally letting him stand up.

I continued to hold my arm behind his arms, forcing his elbows to splay out behind him as I opened the door and helped him sit down. He looked around at the cruiser as I buckled him in, I think starting to realize the actual trouble he was in as he saw the cage ahead of him and the bars on the windows next to him.

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