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Related article: Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2008 14:29:31 EDT From: ExecDad4Yngraol.com Subject: Cops and RubbersCops and RubbersBy Roland Philips Chapter One "Do you know why I stopped you?" "No, officer, I really don't. I'm pretty sure I wasn't speeding." Maybe the fact that I'm driving a Red Corvette had something to do with it, I thought to myself. "Actually, you were. Doing 49 in a 45 mph zone." He was leaning against the door just a bit too hard, with his left arm occupying the entire window sill. "Let's see your license and registration." I took a good look as I handed him the documents. Clean cut, brown hair, not exactly a choir boy face but worth looking at. Mid-forties, maybe late forties, in good shape. He probably didn't eat as many donuts as the average cop. He looked thoughtful for a moment after reviewing the driver's license, and I realized he was probably calculating my age. free preteen blogs "Nineteen," I said. "And a wise guy to boot." Normally, being a wise guy with a cop isn't such a good idea, but the look on his face told me I wasn't headed for the slammer--at least not yet. He returned the documents without looking at the registration. "Are you going to write me up for going 4 miles above the speed limit?" "That depends." "Depends on what, officer?" I was starting to get the idea that this wasn't a routine traffic stop. "Depends on how cooperative you want undressing preteen pics to be. You're a pretty nice looking boy, I think we might have some fun together." Nice looking? Shit, I was gorgeous! At six foot one, 175 pounds, straight blond hair and a wrestler's body, the guys were all over me at school. Not a day went by that I didn't get at least one blow job in the bathroom or under the bleachers after physical education. Yeah, my parents definitely got their money's worth out of my "physical education" class! "There's a small motel about three blocks down, on the right. I'll meet you in the parking lot, all right?" It was the way he said the last two words that tipped me off. He was a sub! On duty, he carried the badge and the gun and the handcuffs, but out of uniform he was a pussy cat. "I can do that," I replied, not entirely successful at hiding a broad smile. I led the way, and he followed. He stopped briefly in the office when we got to the motel. "Let's go, Room 105. It's around back," he said, through the open window of his patrol car, pulled up next to preteen portal illegal mine but facing in the opposite direction. "Be discreet." I couldn't help wondering about his definition of "discreet." Wouldn't a patrol car parked at a motel be a dead giveaway? But there could be any number of legitimate reasons a cop could be at a motel, I realized, including sniffing out potential drug dealers, catching prostitutes in the act, or worse. Besides, where we preteen 100 models were parking, neither car would apparently be visible from the street. We entered the room separately, looking around carefully, like would-be CIA operatives who had flunked out of spy school. When I closed the door behind me, he was already naked. The gun belt was hanging from the hook on the back of the door, clothes placed neatly on a chair, with the handcuffs and flashlight sitting on the top of preteen videos gallery the dresser. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hard as a rock. I'll bet he had at least nine inches. I decided to go with my instincts. Shit, if I was wrong, I'd be in a heap of trouble. If I was right, I'd not only have fun, but I'd probably get out of paying the ticket. I hated paying traffic tickets--fucking waste of money. "Get on your knees," I commanded, then held my breath. He did! I exhaled. "Turn around and face the bed, boy." I'm not sure I believed yet what was really happening, but it was happening. At least that's what my eyes told me. So I took my clothes off too, and started rubbing his shoulders from behind. "How sex preteen thumbs does that feel?" "I'm in heaven." He hesitated, then added underage preteen nudism "Sir." Now I started believing my ears as well. "Sir!" He was definitely a sub, and that was just fine with me. Ever since I was twelve I had fantasies of raping a cop. Or several cops. Repeatedly. Three months past my nineteenth birthday, it was still a fantasy. Until now. My manhood stood up straight, waiting for the opportunity I had feared would never come. An idea galerie young preteen hit me hard. Here's the usual scene: the cop handcuffs the bad guy. Well, in this room, this private room, I was the good guy, the guy in charge, and the cop was going to get handcuffed. "Hands behind your back, boy." He complied. I grabbed the cuffs from the dresser (fortunately within easy reaching distance in the cramped room) and clicked them into place. That really got me hard. This damn cop was helpless and naked, and from what I had seen pre preteen porn so far, he was willing to do whatever I told him to do. "You're just lucky I was going a preteens tube bit fast, aren't you boy? Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to stop me, at least legally." "That's right, Sir. Yes, Sir." "Well, why don't you thank me? Aren't you grateful? And don't just tell me, preteens model girls show me!" My confidence was building. "I am grateful, Sir, grateful for the opportunity to serve you and make you happy." Awkwardly, he turned around, leaned preteen nude gallery down, and kissed my feet. "Very nice, boy, you learn fast. You might just be slave material." His face acquired a reddish hue. "Slave, Sir?" "You heard me. You think you're just going to get it in the ass once, and then I go away? No, you're a lot luckier than that. I'm going to own your ass." I couldn't believe my fantasy was unfolding so quickly. He, on the other hand, seemed perplexed. "I'm afraid asian preteens pics I don't quite follow you, Sir." "It will all become clear in the course of time, I'm not gonna give you a goddamn script. But I'll tell you how the next chapter begins. Stand up and get a glass from the bathroom." He did, awkwardly, carrying it behind him with his fingers, which is about the only way a man in handcuffs can carry anything. I took it from him. "Very good. Now pee svens board preteen in it." I unwrapped the plastic wrapper and held it so he could. "Pee in it, Sir?" I slapped him on his bare ass, and he jumped. "Don't play dumb with me." And in a few seconds, a stream of yellow piss filled the glass about two-thirds full. "Are you thirsty, underage preteen nudism Mister Cop?" I asked. I guess he had figured it out. "Not that thirsty," he said. "Then you're going to spend a lot of time in this room, and sooner or later your Captain preteens fuck photos is gonna start wondering where the hell you are." "He'll just have to wonder then." I put the glass on the dresser, grabbed the remote for the TV, climbed on top of the thin rustic-colored comforter on the nasty mouse preteen queen-sized bed, and propped my head up with a pillow. Dr. Phil, one of my favorite galerie young preteen shows. Wonder what kind of advice preteen videos gallery he would have for me now? Or my soon-to-be slave? The cop must have been pretty close to the top of his class in the police academy. After a few minutes of watching me watch TV, with a growing look of disgust on his face, he got down on his knees again. "Now, Sir?" "Yes, now." I held it for him, gradually tipping the glass until it was empty. In a way, I felt sorry for him. He had just done something most prisoners never have to do. Hell, most prisoners of war never have to do nudepre teen model it. But he was lower than that. He was my slave, and I could make him do anything preteen sexporn pic I wanted. "Good boy." I rubbed his shoulders again, and his back as well, petite preteen naked and he responded appreciatively. preteen formal dress I knew that even slaves like to be rewarded for good behavior. "Now lie down on the bed, on your stomach." I turned away to find my pants, not terribly concerned that he wouldn't follow orders. Hell, if you're willing to drink your own piss, you're pretty much willing to do anything. I found the condom easily in my wallet. Thank goodness I always traveled prepared. I slipped it on and mounted him, first just playing with the idea of sticking it to him, teasing him, running my fingernails down his back, ls dirty preteen breathing into his neck, pulsating around his hole. But the moment of climax had come, so it went home, bad gir lpreteens hard and fast. He got pretty agitated too and finally shuddered with relief. "Oh, Sir, you are the best. I'm a lucky cop." "You don't have a clue how lucky, boy, the best is yet to come." I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself off, then brought a towel dripping with hot water for my new friend. preteen formal dress When I removed the cuffs, he practically melted into my arms. "You didn't bother to ask, boy, but I was on my way somewhere when you pulled me over. Now I'm late, gotta run." "I'm sorry Sir, it won't happen again." "Maybe it won't. But maybe it will. Maybe I'll just be speeding down the same street tomorrow, you never know." I stood up and got dressed. "Isn't there something you'd like to do before I leave, slave?" He stared at me blankly for about three seconds, then experienced the well-known "aha" syndrome. Getting out of bed and onto his knees, he kissed my shoes. "Thank you, Sir, you are the best." Okay, maybe he's not the tiny preteen 18 most original cop in the world, but he's right on target. "You on speeding duty again tomorrow?" I asked. "I never know in advance, Sir. But if I am, I'll watch for you." And he did. Chapter TwoI made a point of using the same route as often as possible, and I got pulled over several times in the next few weeks. Seems like there was a cop patrolling that street for speeders on a regular basis. We talked a little more each time we met, after we were both satisfied, although I usually left him in the cuffs until the very end just to make a point. Patrick--that was his name, badge number 2504--lived alone in a bachelor pad on Indiana Avenue. He'd gone to college and graduated with a major in forensic science, a smart guy with a bright future, or so everyone said. But the expected job offers failed to materialize. After a few months of oscillating high hopes and prospects dashed for reasons that were never explained, he enrolled in the police academy. He told me a few stories about cases he had handled, and from all I could tell he was a pretty good cop. Patrick seemed content the first couple of times just to know that I was handy with my eight inches and had an insatiable desire to be in control. Gradually, cautiously, he expanded his curiosity, and I told him I was the youngest child in a family of four, seemingly gay from the time I was two, and still living at home. "You like living at home"? he asked, and I explained that retail doesn't pay very well. "But the wheels?" he asked. "Dad's second car. He started letting me use it when I turned eighteen." He nodded. "Be patient, Josh, nobody makes a fortune the first year out of high school. You'll get your own place in due time." He winked, knowing that patience wasn't my strong suit; he had figured that out the day I spanked him until his ass was red, and then some more, because he forgot to kiss my feet when I walked into the motel room. About one month after our first meeting, concluding a really intense session (I got off three times!), I decided to test Patrick's compliance with an escalated level of control. I had determined that pre teen galeries he had a web cam, and I pretty much knew his schedule at work, so it was a pretty easy matter to determine when he should be home. By this time, I also had his cell phone number, so I gave him a directive. "Be on line tonight at 8 p.m. Have the cam on, and be naked on your knees." He didn't disappoint me; he was five minutes early. We exchanged pleasantries for about fifteen seconds. "I'm fine, how are you?" "Fine." I guess you could say we were friendly, but we weren't friends. I was the Master and he was the slave. Case closed. "Get a small glass." "Yes, Sir." "Pee in it." I could see that he did. "You have your cell there with you?" "Yes, Sir." Okay, it was repetitious, that little two-word phrase, but I never got tired of hearing asian preteens pics it. Sometimes it made me hard, sometimes it didn't, but it always made me feel powerful. I called him. "Listen carefully. Point the cam a bit lower, toward the floor. Get on your hands and knees, facing away from the computer. Good, I can see you just fine. Balance the glass on your back. Perfect! Now stay in that position until I call you back. I'll be checking up on you from time to time." Click. Now I had a svens board preteen real dilemma on my hands. The man was obedient to a fault. He probably would have stayed on his knees for a week if I'd wanted him to, although that was totally impractical for a number of reasons. How long should I discipline him? He hadn't done anything wrong, but I wanted to preteen 100 models establish that I now controlled him 24/7, not just when we met on the street. I knew that a fairly high level of discomfort would set in after half an hour or so. Two hours would be a pretty extreme punishment, so I would save that for an appropriate situation. One hour should do. I set my alarm and took a nap for 45 minutes. He was fidgeting when I got back, clearly transferring his weight periodically from one arm to the other, and alternately stretching his legs, but I hadn't told him he couldn't do that. The glass was still on his back, with the liquid moving slightly in response to his feeble attempts to get comfortable. I watched in fascination the last fifteen minutes, exalting in the long-distance control I exercised over this so-called man-of-the-law. Then I called. "Not bad, slave, not bad at all. I'm proud of you. You may remove the class now." "Thank you Sir. I can't say that was easy." "Not intended to be easy, slave. Intended to be difficult." "I hope I passed the test." "You did, this time. There will be variations preteens fuck photos in the future." I had already decided to make him blindfold himself and wear a heavy metal collar the following day. In fact, my imagination was running wild with ideas--longer time periods, different positions, preteens fuck photos types of bondage he could use that would restrict his motion but from which he could release himself when given permission. The field was expanding, and I intended to take full advantage of every opportunity. Chapter Three "I have a surprise for you, slave." We had adjourned from the street, where a dangerous speeder had been taken off the road by a dedicated public servant, to the usual room in the motel. "And I have preteen with pillow one for you too, Sir." "Yours can wait. Look at this." Another month had gone by--one of the most enjoyable I ever had. But it was getting stale; I decided to increase the level of my control a notch. A big notch. Although I was fairly sure that Patrick wasn't fooling around with anyone else, I couldn't be absolutely certain. I wasn't privy to what happened at the police station, and it seemed unlikely to me that there was only one gay cop out of well over a hundred assigned to that location. And who knew what was going on while he was supposedly patrolling other locations in the city. I decided to make sure I was the only one. I had seen the cb3000 chastity device on line--an intriguing little apparatus. A small clear plastic circular ring that slid open at one end could be fastened tightly around the scrotum, against the body. A solid, cylindrical plastic pin about one quarter of an inch in diameter and an inch and a half long was then pushed through a hole in the ring, locking the two halves into place and providing a receptacle for the other major piece of plastic, shaped so that the unexcited penis could be jammed into it. With the large piece of plastic attached to the circular ring by a padlock inserted through a hole in the end of the pin, it was possible to prevent a person from experiencing an erection. A hole in the end of the large piece permitted ls amateur preteen urination, so the device could be worn 24/7. The cb3000 arrived about a week after I ordered it, in a small rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. I discovered that it came with several rings, of slightly different sizes, pins of differing lengths, one brass padlock, and several plastic numbered locks that could only be removed by cutting the plastic. Wow, they had thought of everything! Here's where Josh becomes the complete Master, I thought. Shit, he won't even be able to masturbate without permission! I kept it in my car, unobtrusively, waiting for the next opportunity. I was so anxious to try it out I found myself speeding just a bit more than usual, hoping for the flashing lights and the siren that would spell the end of Patrick's remaining freedom. Now, the opportunity had arrived. "What the hell is that?" he asked, and I couldn't help but smile. If I hadn't seen it on the Internet and had a chance to learn how the pieces fit together, I wouldn't have known myself. "It's called a cb3000, boy. It's a chastity device. You're going to wear it." He was already naked and cuffed, so I experimented at leisure with the various size rings until I found the one that fit perfectly. I had to wait a few minutes then, while he distracted himself preteens fuck photos and his penis returned to the down position, to attach the rest of the equipment. The click of the little padlock sealed the deal. I pocketed the only key. "Pretty clever, Sir." "Indeed it is." I decided to show him how powerful it was. I rubbed his shoulders and massaged his neck, then moved downward. My hands can be very soft and caring when I want them to be. He flinched when I got to the critical area. "Trying to get excited, boy?" "Doesn't seem like that's going to be possible, Sir," he replied. "I knew you were a smart cop, you catch on very quickly." I got pretty excited, seeing Patrick all trussed up in his handcuffs and his cb3000, so I satisfied my desire. Then it hit me--he had said that he had a surprise. "I have two weeks' vacation coming next month, Sir. I was wondering whether you wanted to come with me. I was thinking of going to Europe." Europe??? Shit, I hadn't even been west of the Mississippi River. "Hell yes, man. I mean, hell yes, boy. That should be a blast." "Good, I was hoping you'd say yes. I've been to Spain, but it was on business. Barely broke the surface of the tourist stuff. In two weeks, we can catch the Gaudi Cathedral, the Eifel Tower, Amsterdam, maybe even London. I'll enjoy it a lot more with some companionship, Sir." "Count me in." "There's just one thing, Sir. How am I going to get on an airplane with this solid metal lock in my crotch?" "They have plastic locks, boy, not to worry." I showed him one, with the number 52600 on it. "Maybe you don't intend for me to preteen sweet wear it that long anyway, Sir." He was really asking a question, in the form of a statement. The truth is, I had no idea how long I would keep him preteen bbs chat in that contraption. But a few days didn't seem like a long enough time to deprive him of sexual pleasure. Maybe a few weeks. I decided that I didn't have to decide right away. Besides, I was already dreaming of sipping wine on the Champs Elysees. Chapter FourTwo weeks before our trip, my friend Jeremy invited me to his 21st birthday party. I had known him since the sixth grade, when we bonded because it was obvious we were the only two gay guys in the class. Since then, of course, preteens fuck photos he had sprouted into a real stud: not quite six feet tall, preteen pantyhose forum black hair, naturally muscular without being obsessive preteen nude gallery at the gym, and a solid seven inches in front when he got excited, which was frequently. Jeremy knew all about my interest in domination, bondage, and slaves, and I'd mentioned Patrick from time to time without going preteen sexporn pic into detail. When I suggested bringing him to the party, Jeremy was reluctant at first. "What's he gonna do, sit around for three hours and watch a bunch of guys he doesn't even know?" But when I shared a few ideas with him about how the slave could enliven the party and ensure that every guest went home happy, Jeremy came around. "We're going to spend the evening at my friend's house," I informed the slave the night before. "I'll pick you up at eight." "Yes, Sir," he replied, having grown accustomed to taking orders without questioning my intent or my motives. We were the first to arrive. Jeremy greeted us at the door, and we hugged. "This is my slave," I said, glancing at Patrick. "You like birthday parties, don't you slave?" "Yes, Sir." "Do you have a present for the birthday boy?" "Yes, Sir." He got down on all fours and kissed Jeremy's feet, then stayed on the floor waiting for permission to stand up. He didn't get it. "We're going to get ready in your bedroom, lolliats preteen okay?" I asked Jeremy, and he nodded. I slapped my slave on the ass and motioned to the hallway to our left, and he crawled like a trained dog. preteen nudes links When we got to the room, I set the gadget bag on the bed and took out the handcuffs. babysitter preteen story "Stand up, strip, hands behind your back," I commanded, and a minute later the restraints had clicked into place. "I know you intend to behave, slave, but you're going to have some new and intense experiences tonight, so the cuffs are my insurance policy. I don't want to be embarrassed in front of my friends." "I would never do that, Sir." "You have no intention of doing it, but you don't know what plans we have for you yet, so you best not promise something you can't deliver." He got a slightly worried look and cocked his head to the right slightly. I knew him well enough by this time to understand that he wanted more information about what was going to happen, but without permission he couldn't ask. "You just do what you're told, slave, I'll take care of everything. Kiss everyone's feet when they arrive and stay close to me unless instructed otherwise." That's all he needed to know at that moment. Seven other guests arrived during the next thirty minutes or so. I introduced Patrick to all of them, and they said hello to him. "Memorize their names," I said, "or your ass will be pretty sore by the end of the night." I didn't explain the connection; he would find out soon enough. Most of the guys were somewhat surprised by the sight of a naked man collared and free preteen blogs handcuffed, wearing a cb3000, greeting them at the door, but they adjusted quickly when Jeremy explained. When Patrick had finished kissing all their feet, I told him to go kneel in the corner while the rest of us talked and ate. Then game time started. I got a blindfold and a paddle out of the gadget bag in the bedroom and brought it into the living room where Patrick was cleaning up the paper plates. The guests formed a circle, and I pulled the slave into the middle. "This one's called `Memory Lane,'" I announced. "You will each give the slave one swat and say your name, in turn, until we have all finished. He will rotate in the middle of the circle to make that convenient and give you the best angle for the swat. In the second round, you will give two swats, then the slave will say your name. If he remembers it correctly, you will leave the circle. If he doesn't, you stay in the circle and give three swats the next time around. We continue until the slave has named everyone correctly." "How hard do we swat?" Evan asked. He was the smallest of the group, with blonde hair, and probably the most likely to empathize with the plight of the blindfolded slave. "It's up to you," I said. "I'd recommend fairly easy at first, getting harder as the game progresses." And that's pretty much what they did. And despite being a reasonably smart guy, Patrick ended up with a pretty red ass. I think the swats distracted him from what ordinarily undressing preteen pics would have been a fairly easy job of memorizing a list of names in order. At the end, he was dancing around pretty good after each slap, and he was obviously relieved when he got the last name right. "Sir, may I speak with you privately, Sir?" he asked cautiously. "Excuse us just a minute, gentlemen," I said, and led him by the leash into the bedroom. "What is it, slave?" "Sir, do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me? Not only am I naked, but the guys are treating me like a piece of shit, laughing at me when I make a mistake. I feel like I'm about two inches tall, Sir." "You are exactly as tall or as short as I tell you to be, slave." I felt like I shouldn't mince words with him. We had come this far, and there was no way he was going to escape the humiliation I had planned. And I knew he would take it, too, not bad gir lpreteens willingly, but he would, and afterward he would be proud of himself, and he would be that much more devoted to me, because I had made him do it. "As far as being a piece of shit, well I'd say there's a pretty close resemblance." I let it sink in a minute, then laid it on thick. "You knew this was coming, slave. I own you, all of you, 24/7, and if I choose to have you humiliated, then you will not only perform as instructed, you will enjoy it. Your life now revolves around me--making me happy, as often as possible, doing whatever I tell you to do, promptly and without question. Besides ..." and here I tugged on his handcuffs "...you don't really have a choice, do you?" "No, Sir." There was a touch of resignation in his voice, but also a touch of respect--just the combination that sent a chill through my entire body. "Good, then we understand each other. Now, are you ready for the next game?" "Yes, Sir." He was 99% ready and 1% scared to death, but all I cared about was the 99%. I've done a pretty good job training him, I thought gay preteens boys to myself. "Back into the living room, boy." In view of his cherry-red ass, I decided to give him a break before the second game began. "Hey, guys, I need about thirty coins. Doesn't matter what they are." The boys dug into their pockets and quickly came up with enough change. "Patrick, on your hands and knees." He started crawling toward a corner of the room. "No, right here in the middle, where we can all watch you. Look down at the floor." He returned. I placed the coins carefully and judiciously on his back, lower legs, neck, head, and wrists, with one balanced precariously toward the end of each finger. "You will stay in this position until I give you permission to move. You will get one swat for every coin that falls off your body." For the next 45 minutes, the party swirled around my mexican preteen girl slave, immobilized not by restraints but by fear of punishment. Some people call it "mental bondage." I just call it one hell of a lot of fun. My friends and I talked, drank, and ate, stepping either around him or over him on our way to the kitchen and back, at our discretion. He did pretty well for the first half hour, then his movements became more pronounced as he struggled against the growing discomfort. At the end, one coin had slipped off the pinky on his left hand, two had fallen on the floor next to his right hand, and one more had dropped off his leg near the right ankle. "Four swats," I concluded. "Not bad, not bad at all," and I proceeded to give him the punishment he had earned. The second game was similar to pre teen galeries the first, but more informal. While most of the guests continued to mill around and guzzle beer, each preteens tube one in turn laid down on a white sheet I put down on the floor over in a corner, and the slave licked him from head to toe. When he announced "I'm done, Sir," he got one swat for every square inch of the body he had missed, based on an estimate provided to me by the lickee. Sure enough, he got more thorough as the game progressed. "Now, into the shower with you, slave, and kneel. The guys have had a lot of beer, and they need to relieve themselves." I got no resistance; the slave was resigned to his fate. When I got back to the living room, I announced, "Gentleman, the human toilet awaits you. You may now relieve yourselves." And they did, one by one, except for Brant and Gregory, who decided to go two on one. I had to smile-- that was a nice little added bit of humiliation even I hadn't thought of. By the time everyone had finished, it had gotten late. I had planned several more games, but it was clear the party was ready to break up. We all thanked Jeremy, Patrick kissed everyone's feet as they left, and we went back to the car after I allowed him to get dressed. "A nice bunch of guys, don't you think so slave?" Patrick fidgeted, obviously experiencing some degree of discomfort from trying to find a way to sit without aggravating his tender butt. "The best, Sir. And You are the best of the best." I could tell he meant it. The training was paying off. "I can't wait to go to Europe with you, slave." "Me too, Sir, it will be the best time we ever had." He wasn't on duty the next day, which was fortunate for him, because sitting in a patrol car might have been uncomfortable. It was also fortunate for me, because I fucked his ass about three times the next day. "Cops and rubbers," I thought to myself. "Now that's a fucking good combination."
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