evidence of handcuffs and straps, the two cops question Chris more closely
I tried to re-explain some of our mutually agreed challenge games, but
they remained sceptical about 'mutually agreed'. As I elaborated on
the twenty-four hour no let-out of the leather hood deal, the cop in
the hi-viz jacket and leather pants held me with piercing eyes while
his mate, menacing in full leather bike gear and shades said ...
“Oh, it sounds very unlikely. We'll need to verify that story
- sir" matching his colleague’s previous heavy style of politeness.
It made it sound particularly dangerous as he continued ...
“Where is this so-called - er ‘buddy’ of yours at
took a deep breath before admitting “In the bedroom, but he’s
they’d gone before I could say any more.
the two cops and needed to squeeze my way past them as they gazed down
at Sam, manacled hand and foot. Hooded, booted and gloved in leather
and lying on the leather-covered bed in his heaviest bike leathers,
he was still angrily yanking at the prison belt that locked his wrists
to his waist.
I was still wearing my bike jacket and pants, and one of the cops was
in full leather and the other was booted and wearing leather breeches
- and Sam lay literally imprisoned in leather lying on leather …
the room seemed to be crammed full of black leather.
doesn’t seem too happy with his predicament,” observed the
hi-vis cop after a silence during which both watched Sam struggle some
not, but that’s part of the game - not liking it” I replied.
They seemed to consider this … and I was suddenly aware of long
bulges in two pairs of leather uniform pants; something told me that
these guys were not exactly unaffected by the implications of the situation
they’d stumbled across.
seems pretty angry,” observed the leather cop. “You say
you’re good at staying in control. Are you sure those restraints
are up to the job? Looks like he’s still in a position to put
up a struggle.”
I know my stuff,” I told them confidently. “Had a lot of
practice keeping him efficiently restrained. Switching him from predicament
to predicament is part of the fun however much of a fight he puts up.
I know my equipment and how to use it.“
a lot of gear, have you?” cut in the hi-viz cop.
than enough,” I told them as I slid back the mirrored wall that
hides our play cupboard. “You see officer, we play this sort of
game on a regular basis. No harm done", I reassured them. “Believe
me. Sam here always comes back for more.”
sight of all the gear, the two cops seemed impressed. They began to
inspect the rail, heavy with several strait-jackets, a couple of sleepsacks
and various man-size bags and suits, plus rows of boots and other gear.
The cop in sun glasses took them off before fingering a particularly
heavy black leather strait-jacket that had several strong brown leather
straps hanging from it.
looks like something you could really put up a struggle in,” he
said as he looked back at Sam still writhing on the bed.
be a bit of a fight to get him into it,” I said, sensing a shift
in the atmosphere in the crowed room.
of a fight? Well, we’re used to dealing with fellas who put up
a bit of a fight, aren’t we, Jim?” His strong mouth twisted
into a grin as the hi-viz cop grinned back at his colleague and nodded
agreement. Both looked capable enough and perhaps eager for an opportunity
to participate in a bit of rough and tumble.
I said, “You guys want to help me get a strait-jacket on him,
then?” I asked tentatively, not believing my luck.
cop had already taken the strait-jacket off the hanger and was weighing
it in his hands. It was the toughest and heaviest we owned.
this is great,” he said to his mate as they both set about examining
it more closely.
“Never seen anything like this. It’d make any would-be Escape
Artist shit themselves.”
nothing!” I said. “Nobody could ever get out of that. Double
leather, reinforced at every point of stress, the extra-high collar
locks. When the sleeves are strapped through all the various retainers
… give up hope, all that enter!”
- what are we waiting for?” announced the hi-viz cop. “Like
I told you earlier this afternoon,” he said to me, “Plenty
of leather is always good - on or off a bike.”
drink to that,” enthused the totally leather-clad cop, smiling
at me and then down at Sam. “Let’s see if we can get it
on him. Right?” he said to his mate.
I said, “Right on!” as I produced a key and bent over Sam
to unlock his handcuff belt … and that’s when it all happened.
I was grabbed
from behind, suddenly jerked backwards, a leather-covered arm vice-like
around my throat. I shouted out, which caused the grip to tighten, the
arm forcing my chin upwards and my mouth closed. His leg pushed its
way between mine from behind. Our leather creaked and chaffed together
as I was clamped back onto the leathered cop. Almost simultaneously,
he’d somehow got an arm under my left elbow and was twisting it
up behind me. This guy obviously was well-practiced in such moves. I
know, because I’m good at it too - but there were two of them
and they’d taken me by surprise. I grabbed up with my free hand
to try and drag his choking arm off my throat, but his colleague was
active, too. He was now in front of me holding the strait-jacket ready,
and was grabbing my free wrist in a well-applied twist-grip. I knew
the technique and knew how efficient it was.
the man behind me nearly dislocated one of my arms and throttle me with
his elbow, my other arm was already being skilfully forced down into
the sleeve of the strait-jacket by the determined hi-viz cop. As that
arm was clamped in place by a firm grip, the cop behind me brought my
twisted arm round to the front while still deftly sustaining an effective
arm-lock on it. In spite of my desperate struggling I found the second
wrist disappearing, pushed down deep into the menacing jacket’s
was suddenly free but an unexpected yank at the jacket from behind and
it was up onto my shoulders. Between them they expertly manoeuvred me
none too gently face down onto the floor at the side of the bed. A heavy
knee kept me there while the jacket was rapidly closing behind over
my leathers, tighter and tighter with every back strap they were connecting
- a well synchronised team, four hands well coordinated. Buckles rattled
closed. As somebody groped between my leather-covered legs, the wide
single crotch strap was pulled through and pulled tight - I nearly came
in my leather jeans. Then the strap was wrenched even tighter as it
was strapped through the buckle somewhere up behind my back. It suddenly
struck me that these two guys were suspiciously familiar with the process
of strapping somebody into a strait-jacket - but I had no time to dwell
on this possibility.
your feet, leather-man!” said a voice, as two pairs of hands hauled
me to my feet by the straps of the jacket.
“What the fuck are you … ” I protested, my voice
almost a croak after the headlock the leather cop had had on me.
“Shut to fuck up - sir!” growled the leather cop. “We’ve
not finished yet!”
that he jerked the high collar of the strait-jacket up and began to
exxplore how it wrapped around my neck before two heavy brown straps
circled the neck side by side. This collar I’d specially designed
to make it as restrictive as possible, high and tight preventing any
straps were connected and tightened, this process distracted me from
realising that my arms still were not yet strapped - but I missed the
opportunity. Two pairs of beefy hands soon set about the task of restraining
my arms, bulky because of the various thicknesses of leather bike jacket
under double-thick leather strait-jacket with extra reenforing leather
at elbows and mitts.
My attempts at resistance were short-lived.
please!” I squawked ineffectually inside the now rigid throat
wrappings as the two cops determinedly forced my arms across my chest.
All my training in dealing with violent prisoners was of no use to me.
These two were obviously experienced, and I sensed that it was probably
more than their training as cops that made them equal to the situation.
Please, no!” I gasped as air was forced out of my lungs as the
special high-security double buckle sleeve-ends were connected at the
back and began to drag my arms progressively tighter across my rib-cage.
- agh!” I yelped as one pair of hands expertly wrenched the tough
sleeve-ends closer and yet closer together behind me while others pushed
my elbows tighter together in front. They knew tricks I’d learned
during years of playing around with strait-jackets. I sensed the prongs
of the two heavy-duty buckles snap into place behind me. Two final jerks
as they pulled the loose strap-ends through retaining loops signalled
the end of any hopes for me. I stood trussed and gasping for breath.
Mister control freak. Get out of that - as Morecombe & Wise used
to say," gloated the hi-viz cop.
could ever get out of that. Your own words,” said the leather
wear plenty of leather. My words!” smirked the hi-viz cop, “and
leather over leather’s even better!” he added, obviously
elated by the situation.
up hope all that enter. Your words, leather-man. Your words!”
continued the leather cop. “You’ve entered, and shit are
you staying!” he sneered.
Something I’d always managed to avoid in the past. I was always
the one doing it to Sam. These guys had done a really efficient job
- me strapped into a jacket which I’d ordered and deliberately
designed to be totally escape-proof. Now, me, imprisoned in its clinging
layers of tough black and brown leather over my leather bike jacket.
I’d put Sam into it dozens of times - but never risked allowing
him to do it to me.
at the sleeves, tentatively. Nothing moved, just creaked. I wrenched
my body from left to right. Nothing happened except the crotch strap
tightened on my bursting prick.
leather-jacketed cop watched for a moment enjoying the spectacle for
a while before moving in closer and putting an arm around my shoulder
in an all-friends-together way.
really in a fucking mess … sir!” he said with that same
mocking politeness. Tightening his grip, he almost playfully began to
pull me off balance. I was in no porition to stop him as he forced me
downwards demonstrating his complete control. He smiled into my face
as he lowered me none too gently onto the floor.
I lay, two towering pairs of bike boots and leather pants seemed a mile
high up to two faces grinning down at me.
ADVENTURE CONTINUES FOR ANOTHER 2000 WORDS