| Subject: The Police Officer |
Author:
Stan
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Date Posted: 13:13:04 04/05/16 Tue
I stopped going to the gay bars many years ago. I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, and I hated the late hours. If Mr Right had actually come along, I would have probably been too tired to do anything with him. I felt that most of the time I spent in gay bars was a total waste, especially considering how few times I actually went home with anyone. My desire to be dominated and disciplined by another guy considerably reduced my odds of finding a compatible partner.
Whenever I am out in public, my mind often perceives situations that could possibly lead to a punishment scene. A few months ago, I was in a store parking lot. Just as I was getting out of my car, a nice-looking man was getting out of his pickup truck nearby. He was on the tall side and gave me a very friendly smile. My first thought was "Straight men don't smile like that to other men". So then I'd think, IF ONLY he were gay, and IF ONLY he were attracted to me, and IF ONLY he got off on spanking other men. There are just too many IFs in my life!
Sometimes, I see a guy who may not be particularly attractive and think to myself, "He looks like he's straight, and he looks like he's a father". I could visualize him taking off his belt and disciplining his son with it. And I'd think, "I wish I were that son getting that whipping."
Any man I think of as an authority figure might spark my imagination, especially police officers. And this is leading to something that happened to me a couple months ago. One day, I was using a computer at my local public library when one of the librarians came around and told everyone they had been asked to evacuate the library. I found out it was due to a "bomb scare". It was not in the library itself. There was a natural gas pump used by city vehicles located just behind the library's parking lot, and somebody had left a suspicious-looking package by the pump. The library's patrons had all gotten into their cars and had exited the parking lot. That is, all except me. The police would not let me go to my car because it was, unfortunately, parked within a few feet of the suspicious package! They told me I had to move further away from the library. Because my cell phone was in my car's trunk, I couldn't call anyone to give me a ride. And the police couldn't tell me when I would be able to return to my car. So I walked down to the end of the block, which was only a short distance away, perhaps 100 feet. Across the street was the city hall. There was a cement bench I could sit on at the corner, and there was a drinking fountain and a restroom inside the city hall if I needed them. Ironically, considering where I had just come from, I had no book to read to entertain myself with while my car was being "held hostage". However, the bench I was sitting on was directly across the street from the cops' staging area where they all parked their vehicles and "milled around" waiting for the bomb squad to arrive. So I had an ideal view of all those hot-looking cops walking by and a perfect excuse for "loitering" there.
After about an hour, I saw a huge vehicle arrive. It was the bomb squad, and within 10 minutes, I was told the "All Clear" signal had been given, and I could retrieve my car. Luckily, the bomb scare had been a false alarm. Before I could even get off the bench, a police car pulled up alongside the curb right in front of me. The police officer in that car offered me a ride back to my own car. I didn't really need the ride. It was only a couple minutes walk to my car, but I thought it might be interesting so I accepted his offer. Actually, I had never been in a police car before. It was surprisingly roomy inside, probably to accommodate all the gear they had to carry on their holster belts. I sneaked a few "discrete" glances at the officer to "check him out". I don't know whether it was because he was wearing the uniform or because of his "authoritarian demeanor", but I found myself attracted to him. I can't recall ever having been so physically close to a police officer. He apologized for the inconvenience the situation had caused me, but I told him there was nothing to apologize for. He was only doing his duty, and it was better to be safe than sorry. He took what seemed to me like a round-about way back to my car, and it probably took as long as if I had walked back. When he dropped me off at my car, I thanked him for the ride and then left. The experience had given me something to feed my future fantasies with.
A few weeks later, I was walking down the street near the civic center, when a car pulled up alongside me and the driver said hello. It kind of took me by surprise because I only have a few friends in the area, and it wasn't any of them. Then, I suddenly realized it was the police officer who had given me the ride at the library a few weeks earlier. I hadn't recognized him at first because he wasn't driving a police vehicle and he wasn't in uniform. His shift had just ended and he was driving home. I said, "I recognize you now. You're the officer that gave me a ride after the bomb scare." I told him "You know, that was my first time in a police car. It was quite interesting". He asked me if I would like to come over to his house some evening when he's off duty and he could tell me a little about police work, if I was interested. I told him I'd like that very much. He gave me his phone number.
A couple days later, I called him up and we arranged for me to come over to his place the following evening. I knocked on his door, and he invited me in. We chatted for awhile about police work. He told me he had to go through the police academy before he could become a police officer. I then asked him about all the gear they had to carry on their holster belts. When he got around to mentioning handcuffs, I suddenly realized there was a pair of handcuffs lying on a nearby table. I hadn't noticed them before. I asked him if those were the handcuffs he wore on his holster belt, and he said, "No. These cuffs are reserved for a few of my guests". His response had taken me by surprise, but I quickly asked, "Women friends?" He said "No. Actually, some guys I know like me to use my handcuffs on them". When he said that, I "knew" that the officer was my kind of guy, that is, gay. He asked me if I had ever had a pair of handcuffs placed on me before, and I said no. Then, he asked me if I had ever been curious what it felt like being handcuffed, and I replied yes. Then he asked me if I'd like to find out right now what it felt like! There were a few awkward moments of silence. Then I looked toward him and nodded in the affirmative. He then pulled my hands behind my back, one at a time, placed my wrists into his cuffs, and then locked them in place. I got a real hard-on when he put those cuffs on me.
I asked him what did he do with those guests after they were placed in handcuffs. He then said, "Come into my bedroom and I'll show you". I saw a wooden paddle with holes in it hanging from a hook on the wall near his bed. The officer said, "I administer punishment to them with that paddle. Would you like to find out what that punishment feels like?" Before I could answer him, he warned me that the paddle hurts like hell. In spite of his warning, I said yes. I thought he was just having some fun intimidating me and that he would only give me a few light, playful strokes with his paddle.
He then took me over to his bed and carefully (to avoid injury from the cuffs) rolled me over onto my stomach on the bed. He took off my shoes, undid my jeans, and pulled them and my underwear off. Then he removed the paddle from the wall and slammed it across my butt, striking both buns at once. It practically knocked the wind out of me. I felt a tingling in my flesh that was quickly transformed into a sharp burning sting.
He struck one bun with the paddle and then the other bun, alternating back and forth between the two. Every now and then, he would strike the same bun several times in a row, and that bun would suddenly feel like it was on fire. It was obvious from the intensity of his strokes that this punishment was going to be the real thing! This was way more than I had bargained for, but I was too scared to say anything to him.
He was using that paddle on me really hard. I started crying, but the paddle strokes continued unabated. The pain built up to an unbearable level, and I started yelling each time the paddle struck. The officer's left hand pushed against my back to keep me from getting up and escaping, while his right hand continued to apply that paddle to my ass without mercy. Each time his paddle struck my naked buttocks, my mind focused on the incredible experience of pain that overwhelmed me.
Eventually, the paddle strokes ceased, and I felt his left hand, which had been holding me down, suddenly relax. My punishment seemed to be over with. He carefully rolled me over to the edge of the bed and pulled me up to a standing position. However, he hadn't yet removed the cuffs. He began rubbing his left hand over my genitals, causing them to swell up and become hard. He wrapped the fingers of his left hand around my sex organ. It felt so good. His fingers gently squeezed my organ. I could feel them gradually squeezing tighter and tighter. I thought I was going to "come" at any moment.
But his fingers continued to squeeze even tighter, and it now felt like my organ was being crushed in a vise. Suddenly, his right hand picked up the paddle once again and began striking my ass with it. The strokes were much more rapid than before, and they quickly increased in intensity. I tried to pull away from him, but his left hand had a "death grip" on my organ, preventing my escape. As the pain continued to mount, I screamed in agony. The officer had not exaggerated. His paddle did hurt like hell! After what seemed like an eternity in hell, I suddenly realized that the paddle strokes had ceased and my hands were now free of his cuffs. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, and the officer was on top of me, "merging" his body with mine. I felt my own identity becoming submerged by the officer's overwhelming presence and his total physical domination over me.
For the curious, the first 5 paragraphs are true and the rest is wishful thinking.
One Final Note: I don't generally recommend the use of handcuffs in a "recreational" punishment scene because of the risk of injury to the bottom.
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