Police work suited Bob. Ha had placed in the top quarter of his class, and he had excelled in the training and examinations that involved physical prowess: one thing he always carried with him from his MMA days: the importance of physical fitness. He exercised every day, got a run in at some point, usually in one of the more secluded sections of the park near his house, and got on with his life. Things were looking up: it seemed he even might have a boyfriend.
His mom had had several colorful expressions. One was "Don't shit where you eat," and Bob, especially after his heart was broken by Dragon, "looked but didn't touch" at the precinct. Yeah, he got checked out, by more than one guy, and sometimes he looked back. No one really caught his fancy, so this was all ok.
That all changed the day he had to testify in a case where the defendant asserted there had been brutality during his arrest. Bob hadn't made the arrest, but he had been a witness. As he sat in the jury chair, in his short sleeve blue shirt, the striped tie (one of three he owned), and his jacket (purchased just before the trial), he thought the Assistant DA, a guy named Justin Phillips, was smiling at him. Bob could live with that: Justin was about 6'4", had a shaved head and a smooth face, piercing eyes, and while Bob couldn't tell, he had the feeling he had a hairy body covered with tattoos . When Phillips began his questioning, Bob thought, right away, that he was being ordered around by some Dom slave Master. His voice was deep: steady, and commanding. While he was testifying, Bob looked down because he guessed, correctly, that he was showing wood. He'd have to get it down by the time he left the witness chair. He didn't completely succeed, and he saw Phillips smile, and place his body between Bob and the jury so that no one saw, as he went back to his seat.
At the end of the trial, Justin came up to him. He was smiling even more. "First time to testify rookie?" Bob was tall, but he had to look up to Justin. "Yes sir. Did I do okay?" Justin laughed a little. "You did so ok I'd like to take you out to lunch. Rookies get cherries popped in the first year. I'm glad I can say I was one who popped one of yours." And the wood was back.
Justin took him to a nearby Italian restaurant, very busy with the court and police crowd. Justin knew a bunch of the other ADAs and they greeted him. He exaggerated and introduced Bob as "The police officer who saved my ass today," as Bob thought "Then take mine tonight." "Can I ask how long you've been a lawyer, Sir?" Justin laughed. "In public Bob, no one calls me Sir." Then he dropped his voice. "It's a different story at night. Then they call me bitch." He saw Bob's face fall and he laughed. "GEEZ. YOU SURE ARE A ROOKIE. YOU FELL FOR THAT ALL THE WAY." Bob laughed uneasily. "So, in private they call you Sir?" "You got it. Sometimes in public too. Depending on the place." Bob blushed. "Wow. I used to have a Sir." "I bet you did. You might have another one if you're interested, officer?" Bob laughed now. "You don't mince words or waste time... Sir." "Life's too short. Tell you what?" Justin pulled out a business card, and wrote down his private number. "Think about it. Call me." He got up and leaned over Bob, kissing him on the forehead. "Finish your chicken. " He turned and smiled. "Oh, and by the way, you're not a good sneak. All you had to do is ask. Hairy? Yup, like a bear. Tats? Head to foot. Some in places you wouldn't think of. You'll find out." As he left, Bob was wondering if he could make it to the end of his shift without jerking off. He didn't. And then he did again when he got home. And a third time that night, when he dreamed about Justin on top of him, pulling his legs in the air, and shoving a tattooed cock up his ass.
Bob never got to call Justin because of what happened in the next few days. While he wasn't working on the case, Bob was very much aware of an investigation going on. Over the course of 2-3 months, six guys had disappeared. All were in their late 20s- early 40s, single, fairly well off, and , at least to Bob's eye, good looking. None were his type, but he could imagine that any of them would turn the eye of an interested man. They all went to gyms. Three went to the same gym, and the other three went to gyms in a five block radius. Two of the guys were straight, and two were a couple. There didn't seem to be anything linking them. One was Asian, one was a man of color, the couple were white, and so on. Nor was there a pattern to their disappearances, timewise: of course, the disappearances had to be reported, but based on report dates, the second guy disappeared three weeks after the first one, then the couple disappeared two weeks later, and then the three guys all disappeared on the same day, only a week later. When the seventh guy disappeared, the story was on the front page of the paper. Bob saw it when he picked up his copy from his front door. (He was old school that way: Bob liked the feel of a newspaper. He hated reading the paper on line). When he opened the fold, to the story of the disappearance, he saw that someone had written, in big black magic marker on the story:
"YOU'RE NEXT"
Bob treated it as a joke: from what they knew about the victims, they were all essentially white collar professionals, no connection to law enforcement, or anything like that. They were all markedly smaller than Bob too: in good shape, but not built the way he was. In fact, the story made him think about his own muscles, and he flexed his bicep for himself. He smiled, thinking of Justin, and whether Justin's biceps, which were nearly bursting out of his suit, could hold him in place if he resisted. As he felt morning wood rise, Bob decided he had just enough time to get himself off, and then take a run before work. He lived far enough in the country that no one would hear him howl when he jerked. After he finished, and cleaned up enough that his shorts didn't stick to his crotch, he put on his sneakers and the shorts, and headed out. He decided to go for five miles that day.
Bob had a very ordered running route: he wasn't a guy who wanted a new trail, a new experience, every day. So he took the route he always did for a five miler. It was still warm, so he tucked a tank into the side of his shorts, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed out. The air was crisp, and he felt good. The track was somewhat challenging, because the ground wasn't even, and avoiding the potholes was a must. He had run this path so often, he thought he knew every last hole. That day, something surprised him. As he ran, he felt something like a vine grip his left ankle, and pull back. He went sprawling: the water bottle went flying, and he came down pretty hard. "FUCK." he yelled. What the hell could that have been? He felt his face for blood, didn't find any, but he was probably gonna be bruised. Then he tried to move, and found that, with the exception of whatever that was around his ankle, he was fine. He was about to reach down to get it off, when he heard the voice.
"Ha ha. Got to set the traps out every day. Ya never know what you're gonna catch. Got lucky today, that's for sure." There was a wiry, bearded guy standing over him. "Hey man. Thanks. I didn't see that vine. Got something to cut it." "Ha ha," the voice answered. "Cutting rope is not something you need to worry about boy.." Bob couldn't turn around very well, but he felt the guy drop onto the small of his back. "Let's get those wrists, blondie. " "HEY. HEY. WHAT THE FUCK." Bob began to scream, and felt a leathery, smelly hand cover his mouth. "Let's have none of that, boy. I DO got a knife." Bob heard the click and he felt it right behind his ear. "Ain't gonna kill ya, but I can do some damage. You'll hurt good. Hear me?" Bob shook his head yes. The guy was holding him securely, his ankle was roped, and his gun, phone, everything, were back at his place. "Now gimme those wrists boy." Not wishing to get Grizzly Adams angry, Bob complied. He felt the bonds: he thought back to how Dragon had tied him up. Those bondage sessions were light compared to how tightly this guy was tying him. "Now, let's just get those ankles tied. You're big, but I think I can haul you back to my van. Won't be too difficult. "Please. Please. What are you doing? Please let me go. I'm a cop." "Now THAT's a new one on me boy. I've heard 'I work for the mayor,' I've heard 'my office will look for me,' but never 'I'm a cop. ' Bob began thinking: didn't one of the guys who disappeared work for the mayor's office? "Grizzly" rolled him over on his side. He looked down approvingly. "Yup. They're gonna be happy. REAL happy. Now let's get you moving.' He reached under Bob's pits and hauled him up. "Grizzly" was much stronger than he looked, and he understood balances and counterbalances. He had Bob over his shoulder, his hand planted on his ass, as he walked forward. "Van is about 1/4 mile away. I think we can do that boy. By the way, that's what I'm gonna call you unless I get your name. " "It's... it's bob. Bob Sir." "Grizzly" began to laugh. "Sir already. DAMN you're gonna make this easy." "Where are we going Sir?" bob asked as he got thrown into the back seat of the van. "That, bob, is on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know. Just about half an hour drive." In the backseat, bob squirmed in the ropes. His ankles were not tied as tightly as his wrists, but he couldn't really move either. The seat was low enough that he couldn't see where they were, but the air and the smell of the trees suggested they were further in the woods. "Ok, bob. If I untie your ankles, are you gonna walk, nice and peaceful into that cabin? Grizzly pointed to a small wooden shack just in front of them. Bob looked around and realized he had no idea where he was. If his hands were untied, he might try to wrestle the car keys from his captor, but all he spoke about was ankles. "Yes sir. I promise. And I'm sorry. I didn't ask for your name, " "Grizzly" smiled. "You know, I kinda like Sir, but you're entitled to that. I'm Carl. " With one quick slash, bob's ankle restraints were gone. He thought about trying a kick that Dragon taught him, but Carl had moved out of range. "Let's go stud. Hmmm. These are gonna go over well too. A real gun show. " "Hey, Carl, can I maybe put my tank top on? It's getting a little cold." "I think we could do that. Let's get inside first." Once they were inside, Carl threw the keys to his van on a side table. "Now be still, I'll cut these so you can put on the shirt." "Yes sir. Thank you Carl." When his hands were released, bob slipped on the tank top. Then he shoved Carl, HARD. When Carl fell down, he grabbed the car keys and pulled open the door. He ran toward the van, but before he could get the door opened, he heard the "whiz" of an arrow go past his head, and land in the tree in front of him. "I didn't miss bobby. Next one... right in that haunch of yours. You got ten seconds to turn around and get back here. "SHIT. " bob thought. "Ok, ok, Carl. You win." He put his hands up and came back to the cabin. "I guess we're gonna have to do this the hard way. " He pointed to a chair. "SIT." "Yes sir." As the ropes tightened around his wrists, bob felt a bit of a charge in his crotch. "Now, no one is out here, so if you were to scream, the only person who'd hear you is me. Still...." "Hey, NO. You don't have to do that! MMMMMMMMMMMMPH" Black duct tape went on over bob's mouth. Three nice sized strips. "Signaling sucks out here, but let's see." Carl picked up a cell phone. "Hey, yeah. Carl here. I got the guy. Put up a fight, but he's nice and tied up. How long ? 45 minutes? " He looked at bob and smiled. "We'll be fine. I like blonds." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH." bob had an idea what that meant. "Well, bob... Got 45 minutes to play. I think I kinda owe it to you to introduce you to what's in store for ya." Carl turned around and came back with two clothespins. "I don't go in for any of that fancy stuff, but the first nipple clamps were clothes pins. Fun too. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH. " bob started shaking his head no, and Carl laughed. "What's the matter, Mr. 'I'm a cop?" Don't think you could take it? " He closed one pin on bob's left nip, then the right one. ""NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGFGMPGPGPGPGNGPDPSNSP(SSS" Carl laughed at the sound, as he flicked the pins up and down. "GOD you're entertaining. Gonna be hard to give you up. Now, you want me to take those off?" 'mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmph." bob nodded yes. "You sure?" "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH." more nodding. "Ok, but then we're gonna do something else. Something with that..." he pointed to bob's crotch. "Still want them off?" A whine came out of bob. 'mmmmmmmmmmmmmphlassssssssssssssssss" "Ok.. but be warned. This can hurt more than the pins." It did. bob tried to scream so loud, and to jump out of the chair. This was the first time he was truly in pain. "Now, about this thing right here." Carl pulled out a small paddle. "How many do you think you can take before you start crying? Fifteen? Twenty? Forty?" Carl stroked bob's cock with his paddle, and bob moaned again, begging through the gag. That's when the paddling started. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH." "Like scrambling eggs, boy. Just like scrambling eggs. " bob was about to start crying when he heard the knock at the door. Carl opened it up and he saw: Justin. With two other guys. bob felt relieved. Justin had found him. He was safe. Justin walked into the room and looked at bob. He grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. "Look good tied up, bob. Good thing. You're gonna be . A LOT. "WHAT?" bob was thinking "What's going on?" He saw Justin pull out a thick wad of bills. He handed them to Carl, who counted them, one at a time. "Yup. 50k. All here. Pleasure doing business with ya, Mr. Shaw. He's all yours." Justin turned to his fellows. "Take him out. If he struggles too much, give him an injection." He laughed with Carl. "Had him completely fooled.
Two hours later, exhausted, bob found himself shirtless again, still gagged, arms bound over his head. The winch had pulled them hard enough so that he had to stand on the tips of his feet. He felt totally exposed. He had fought against the restraints until he had no more strength left. He heard footsteps. Thick, heavy, slow and steady footsteps. Justin came into the cellar dungeon. He WAS covered, head to toe, with tattoos. And hair that seemed to vary from black, to gray to white. He was wearing chaps. And he had a crop in his hand.
"bob.. you sweet little thing you..." He came up and ran his hand over bob's torso. When bob tried to pull away, Justin simply encircled his waist, and pulled him back. "Nope. No use fighting it bob. No use at all. I got ya just where I want ya. Part of my harem." bob's eyes looked confused. "When I'm ready, I'll introduce you to the other guys I snatched. Each of them was fun, but... I think it's time to move on. I'll find good homes for them. My buds are always looking for new merchandise. " He smiled as he put his hand on bob's ass. "And since I got me the blond bitch I always wanted... Now, I don't need anyone else. Do I boy?" He smiled, as he pulled the tape off of bob's mouth. bob gasped, sucking in air. "Please Justin. Please. Please let me go. Please." Justin just laughed. "That's not happening." He reached out for bob's crotch and squeezed his balls. "You called me Sir so easily. What happened? Hmmm? The squeezing changed to twisting and bob moaned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Sir. I forgot myself. Please let me go Sir. Please." "Not gonna happen slaveboi. Not gonna happen at all. " He grabbed bob's jaw and squeezed . When bob's mouth opened, Justin covered it with is, and spit into it. Then he forced bob's mouth shut. "SWALLOW IT BITCH. SWALLOW IT. THAT'S YOUR FUTURE AS OF NOW. NO MATTER WHAT YOU WANT. YOU DO WHAT I SAY." bob didn't answer. He was trying to control his cock, which was getting harder by the minute. "Know what I hate more than just about anything on a manslave? Hairy fucking armpits. Makes him think he's a man. " He stopped and yelled. "GRANT. BRING ME THE SHEARER." Within a minute, one of the guys who had been at the cabin was back, with a barber's clippers. "No SIR. Please don't. Please don't...." "Rather have me do your pubes?" Part of bob was thinking "hell yeah," but he tried to fight. "No sir." "Well, I gotta use em somewhere, and it looks like you've been shaving your own chest. That'll stop." The cold of the metal made bob close his eyes, but the shaving was mercifully short. "There. Shaved like a BITCH. Like a CUNT. Like the BITCHCUNT you are." "I... I said I'd give you my ass. In that restaurant, Sir.. But... this.... " "Ha ha. Yeah, you bottoms always think you're gonna control. You ARE gonna give my your ass. Rather, I'm gonna TAKE it. I'm gonna TAKE it whenever I want. And your mouth. And anything else I want. " He paused. "And know what I don't want? What I don't need? THIS." He grabbed bob's cock. "What're we gonna do with this? How do we get rid of it?" "NO SIR . PLEASE. Don't.. Don't.." "Don't what?" "Don't castrate me?" "hahahahahahahahaahahahaaha. Castrate ya? Nah. Too much fun to torture it. But tomorrow... we lock it up. After you get the milk cow treatment." Justin paused. "But for now.... let's inaugurate that pretty ass of yours..." bob thought Justin was gonna take him to a bedroom or something. He was wrong. Justin dropped his pants and.. yes, his cock WAS covered in tattoos. How? How? bob was thinking, as Justin took out a scissor and cut away his shorts, then his jock. bob blushed when he saw how hard he was. "Well, well. Looks like someone is getting a dream come true.." Justin was standing behind bob, and bob couldn't see as he slid one, then two, then three fingers into his ass. He winced. But he didn't want to make any sounds of pain. And after a few minutes, he wouldn't. The fingers felt good. It was the first time something "live" had been up his ass in a while. He began to moan in pleasure. "OH YES SIR. YES YES. OH GOD. PLEASE. " Justin's free hand came around and covered bob's mouth. "Not gonna bother with a gag now. Next time." "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmph" came out of bob, and then he felt Justin begin to penetrate him with that tattooed cock. "OH YEAH. Every bit as smooth as I thought it would be, boy. You like it?" "mmmmmmmmmmmphhmmmmmmmmmmph." bob shook his head yes. He could barely see the pearl of precum on the tip of his cock. It got bigger as Justin pushed in , deeper and deeper. "Tomorrow, boy, my guys are going by your place. I got a thing for fucking cops in their uniforms and we're gonna get yours. DAMN. It's gonna be so FUCKING HOT." He pushed and bob tried to yelp. "You like my boy Carl's clothes pins, boy?" bob tried to shake his head no, but something took over and he shook his head yes. "GOOD. You're gonna get a lot more of that. " He pounded bob harder. "You know, I wonder how many loads that ass of yours can hold. Maybe we'll find out. For now though, it's just gonna take... MINE." bob felt the feel of warm jizz going up his butt. GOD it felt GOOD. His arms hurt, and that made it feel better. "OH GOD. THANK YOU SIR. THANK YOU.. OH FUCK.." Justin had reached around and had begun jerking him. "I don't think this is gonna take long at all." When he licked bob's ear, it was over. bob began shooting madly. He cried a little as he continued to thank Justin. When it was over, Justin looked at him. "You're gonna sleep in my bed tonight. You're in no shape to fight me, so don't even think about it. Grant and Peter will be outside the door too. They've both got tazers. GOOD ONES." He laughed. "Acquired from the police department. We understand each other." "Yes sir." bob answered meekly. He was thinking that if sleeping with Justin were part of his new life, he could deal with that. An hour later, that's just what he was doing.