As if lost in a slowly lifting fog, Derek started to regain consciousness. Bit by bit his brain began to register an awareness. First was the overwhelming stench of ether burning his nostrils. His head pounding, he attempted to open his eyes; it was as if they were glued shut. As his mind began to clear, he realized that they were taped. He could feel the gluey residue tugging at his hair and eyelashes.
Instinctively, he tried to stand, only to hit immediate resistance. He was against some sort of wood post in a kneeling position. His wrists were cuffed on the far side and he was somehow restrained at the waist, causing his butt to be pressed into the heels of his shoes. He felt something soft under his knees, thank God. It was almost like he was on some sort of soft foam pad. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind, to remember what he did that led to this…
Officer Derek McCollum had been a policeman for over a decade. At 42, he still retained his youthful good looks. His wavy dark hair was always neatly slicked back with gel, the hint of gray at the temples almost unnoticeable. At 6′ tall, he kept his lean body toned with rigorous workouts at the precinct gym. That morning, as he did every day, he checked his uniform in the mirror before leaving for work, inspecting every inch of his attire. He had always wanted to be a police officer and he wore the uniform with pride. It had to be perfect.
His mocha eyes perused the reflection in full length; his Wedgwood blue long-sleeved shirt with shoulder epaulets was perfectly pressed, as were the Navy blue wood-blend trousers with the Wedgwood satin stripe down the leg. His size 11 shoes were utilitarian work shoes, but scuff-free and smartly polished.
That morning was uneventful. He was alone as the wife and kids were out of state visiting her relatives. He had welcomed the peace and quiet. The day had been slow and boring when the call came in; it seemed routine. An alarm at one of the old warehouses down along the docks had gone off. That was nothing unusual. The rows of largely abandoned warehouses were nothing but a pain to the police force, who spent an inordinate amount of time answering calls whenever some transient or kid decided to break in, either for thrills or a place to sleep.
Arriving on scene, he saw that a side door was open. Radioing dispatch, he entered and swept the building before once again telling central that all was clear. As he turned toward the door, he felt a strong hand pressing a rag against his face. He fought against it, inhaling the acrid stench and his world began to fade out.
That was all he could remember, the events that led to this helpless, immobile confinement. He had no idea where he was or how long he had been there. He most certainly wasn’t in the warehouse he had responded to, as the dispatchers had that address and would have sent back-up when he didn’t radio in. He spent most of the next hour struggling against his impossible restraints, trying to find a way out. He even yelled into the dark void for help, only to find no response. Soon, the lingering effects of the ether and the struggle tired him and he drifted into a fitful sleep against his wooden imprisonment.
Jerking suddenly awake, the officer tried to make out how much time had elapsed. Although his eyes were still firmly taped, he was able to pry them open enough to sense light coming in underneath, a barely perceptible grayness indicating that it was daytime. That meant he had been here for the whole night.
Even without those clues, another indicator raised its ugly head; his bladder and bowels were both protesting. The urgency was almost overwhelming. His dick was on fire and the mass in his anus was pushing relentlessly against his sphincter. To make matters worse, he could feel gas bubbles in his intestines, which were causing agonizing cramps. He couldn’t fart for fear of losing control. It was insufferable.
He screamed into the blackness. “HELLO. PLEASE HELP ME! I NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM, PLEASE”! He squirmed frantically against the post as his desperation reached a critical stage. He clamped down with every ounce of strength he possessed, trying to hold everything in.
Just when he thought he couldn’t last another second, he heard a voice in the distance. “Derek, Derek, are you in here”? He recognized it immediately. It was his fellow officer and best friend, Mike Bruekmann. “MIKE…MIKEY, IN HERE”! He heard the footsteps as they approached and felt the strong hand on his shoulder. “Guys, I found him; he’s in here! Sweep the building! Buddy, you all right?” “MIKE, PLEASE GET ME OUTTA HERE. HURRY”! His pleas emphasized by violent jerks against his restraints. “Oh, Jesus…” he heard his rescuer whisper under his breath.
“Buddy, I gotta help Tommy and Domenic clear the building; I’ll be right back.” “NOOO”! Derek cried out. Mike once again laid a hand reassuringly on Derek’s shoulder. “Just give me one minute. We’re right here; I’ll be back in a sec.” He heard the footsteps race off as he grimaced, resting his head against the hard post, trying to hang on, unsure of whether he could.
In the distance, he could hear the cries of his fellow officers as they searched the building. “Clear…clear in here,” followed by a brief, softly whispered conversation. As footsteps came back towards him, he heard a car start and speed off, sirens blaring. The solid grip on his shoulder indicated Officer Bruekmann’s return. “I’m back. Now, I’m going to take this tape off your eyes. It’s going to pull, so just bear with me.” He started to yank at the tape, the residue tugging at the restrained officer’s hair as he unwound it from his head. “I don’t care about the tape; JUST GET ME OFF THIS POST! Please. I need to use the can really…” he gasped as another cramp hit him, a small spray of piss spurting into his underwear. “…bad! I’m about 20 seconds away from an accident.” He struggled, squirming against the post as the tape finally ripped free from his head.
Looking left, the blurry visage of Mike came into view; the muscular bald-headed officer knelt next to him, his blue eyes inches away from the restrained man’s face. Derek’s eyes watered as he twisted his face into another pained grimace, the torture of his situation getting the best of him.
The stocky man said firmly, “Derek, DEREK; listen carefully to me.” He grabbed the struggling man by the chin, turning his face to him. “This is the situation. The hinged cuffs on your wrists have a post-lock. They need a hollow-point key to get them off.” Officer McCollum looked at him in disbelief, starting to realize the situation he was in. “The reason you can’t get off your knees is they ran a chain around your waist under the belt loops, it’s wrapped around your service belt and is padlocked to a heavy metal ring on the other side of the post.” The officer looked down in horror, seeing what his friend had just described, the chain disappearing around the other side.
“They even ran a small padlock through your zipper tab and hooked it to your belt buckle so I can’t take it off.” He looked down weakly, espying the small but long hasp of the padlock, one end through his zipper hole, the other around the buckle, also threaded through the metal grommet of his service belt, rendering the belt unremoveable. He was trapped. Panicked, he began fighting against the cuffs and chains, tugging valiantly against the unyielding metal. Officer Brueckmann watched helplessly, unable to do anything to aid his desperate friend.
The firmly restrained man turned towards his fellow officer, a look of helpless astonishment on his face. He whispered to Mike, “I…can’t hold it. Please…” Mike’s reply was defeated. “I sent Tommy and Domenic back to the station to get bolt cutters and a key for these cuffs. There wasn’t anybody else to call, because there’s a huge pile-up on the 405 and a gigantic explosion and fire at the old chemical plant. Almost every cop and fireman in town is responding to those. I hate to tell you this, but…we’re almost 30 miles from the station. Even with full lights and sirens, they won’t be back for over an hour.” As all this sank in, The handsome officer lowered his head in humiliation, realizing what he was going to have to do.
“The…the only reason we even searched this area was because of an anonymous tip. That’s how we found you.” The officer looked up weakly as another spasm hit him, causing him to wince loudly. “Derek, it’s okay; everyone will understand.” “You don’t…get it.” The tortured man gasped in pain as the pressure became almost unbearable. “You won’t be the one kneeling here while the…place is crawling with your peers and you’re sitting in your own mess like a three-year-old; I…will.”
Mike thought for a second. “I tell you what. When they get back, I’ll keep them outside while I cut the chains off and undo the cuffs. They can hold the investigators out until I get you to my car and take you home to clean up. No one will have to see you like that. You can come in to the precinct tomorrow to do the paperwork and interview. It’s not like you saw anyone anyway, so it’ll be a pretty short statement. How’s that?” The officer nodded weakly, resigning himself to the task at hand.
“Now, do you want me to leave the room so you can have some privacy”? Mike proposed. “No, please stay. I’ve been here alone for so long, I can use the company. Besides, I might need some help…” he snickered as he said that, despite his situation…”or at least some moral support.” “Sure thing, buddy. Whatever you want.” Despite his incredible need, The cop was having trouble relaxing, the natural instinct to hold on in this situation overriding his need to let go. Sensing this, Mike leaned in and said softly, “Okay, just close your eyes and relax. Envision yourself at home on the toilet and relax. Come on, you can do it. Just let go.”
Derek felt the first few spurts release, followed by a steady, growing stream, the pale liquid flooding his shorts. He could feel the warm wetness spread, running down the back of his legs and ass. He appreciated the relief, despite the disgust of what he was doing. As the flow reached is maximum, he felt his backside open and the hard mass begin to push its way out. As it did, he farted repeatedly around it, the loud trumpets resounding through the empty warehouse. As it made its exit, the tip of it hit his shorts and the resistance of his uniform slacks. Because of the hardness of the load and the position he was in, he wasn’t making any headway; the progression of his dump halted by the fabric stretched around his restrained, kneeling butt.
His faced reddened as he strained, trying to push the massive log out. Between grunts, he said, “THIS…ISN’T EXACTLY EASY TO DO…IN THIS PO…SSS…ITION”! Until this point, Mike hadn’t really done anything except be there. Kneeling behind his buddy, he leaned up to his ear, “I’ve got an idea. I’m going to stick my hands in your back pockets and push down. That should help make some room; ready?” Derek nodded as the bald hunk stuffed his hands into the still-pissing officers back pockets, his fingers immediately dampened with urine. Swallowing his disgust, he shoved his hands all the way to the bottom, his index fingers rubbing against the smelly lump through layers of material. He pulled downward, simultaneously tugging the waistband down about an inch and stretching the seat of Derek’s pants away from his butt-cheeks, allowing just a tad more room.
“Okay, buddy, push. Come on, you can do it.” The officer bore down, a sustained grunt emanating from his mouth as he bore down with all his strength. The bald man turned his head away as he felt the fabric stretch with the smelly load. Despite that, he continued to hold the material away from his buddy’s ass as he relieved himself.
As the restrained man pushed and grunted, forcing more of the log into his trousers, Officer Bruekmann started to have a reaction that completely threw him. He should have been totally grossed out by the whole scenario; however, he was experiencing just the opposite. He felt a strange fluttering in his belly. His face flushed and his breath came in short gasps. His crotch began to swell and he found himself rubbing his fingers against the growing mound in Derek’s butt. He was getting turned on by this. The handsome, helpless officer in front on him being forced to relieve himself in his uniform was giving the bald muscle-stud a raging boner.
Officer McCollum exhaled loudly as the turd broke off his his shorts. “That’s about all I can muster right now,” he said exhaustedly. “There’s more in there, but I don’t have the strength to get it out right now and there’s not enough room for it anyway.” He chuckled, despite the extreme embarrassment he was feeling. “No problem, buddy,” Mike responded softly. He brushed his fingers against the mound one more time as he withdrew his hands from the dark-haired man’s pockets. He rose unsteadily, dizzy from the emotions he was feeling. Clearing his throat, he said to his bound friend, “I’m going outside for a second. I’ll grab you a bottle of water out of the cruiser. You’re probably parched.” “Thanks, yeah, I really could use some.” He strode unevenly across the warehouse and out the door.
Approaching his cruiser, he paused for a second. His mind was reeling; the feelings he was experiencing were totally foreign. He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t understand why he was reacting this way. As his mind raced, he became aware that he had put his fingers to his nostrils and was inhaling the stench on them. He jerked them away from his face as if he had just touched a hot stove. Leaning in to the passenger seat of his car, he grabbed a water bottle out of the cooler he always kept stocked and headed back inside.
Reentering the dark warehouse, he slowly approached the restrained officer. As he neared, the odor wafted up his nose. He could see the puddle below his buddy’s knees and the pronounced swelling of the man’s ass and all the feelings came rushing back, causing him to reel. Shaking his head to clear it, he drew a deep breath as he walked up to Derek. “Here,” he said, opening the water and putting it to his friend’s lips. The lithe prisoner inhaled the bottle in a few gulps. “Thanks, man. I didn’t realize how thirsty I really was. I hope the guys get back here soon; this is really disgusting.” He looked up at his buddy as Mike nodded weakly. “Don’t worry, Derek; they’re hurrying as fast as they can.” He couldn’t take his eyes off his friend’s trousers. He hoped he didn’t notice the bulge in his crotch.
After a short while, the radio crackled to life. “Yeah, I’ll be right out,” he radioed back. “They’re back. I’m going to go get the stuff. I’ll be right back.” “Thank God,” the helpless officer replied, watching the bald, muscular officer exit the building. After a moment, the officer returned, bolt cutters and key in hand. Slicing through the chain first, he freed his friend’s waist from the pole. Derek was able to start moving his stiff, sore legs. Next he snipped the padlock on the filthy man’s zipper. Squatting down on the other side of the pole, he unlocked the cuffs, freeing the poor man from his lengthy imprisonment.
Derek tried to stand but his legs were so stiff, he fell against the post. “Hold on, buddy, let me help you.” The larger man moved over, draping Officer McCollum’s arm over his shoulder, hoisting him to his feet. Slowly, they made their way across the room to the blinding sunlight, the newly freed man’s legs becoming more fluid as they moved.
Squinting in the brightness, The dark-haired man commented, “where’s everyone?” “CSI and the guys are around the corner. I asked them to stay out of sight until we got out of here. Look, buddy, I know how embarrassing this is for you. I wanted to spare you any more humiliation.” Derek looked weakly over at his friend. “Thanks, Mike. I really do appreciate it.”
Officer Bruekmann opened the passenger door. Derek stood there for a moment. “How…how do I do this? I really don’t want to sit in it.” They both realized they hadn’t thought about how the newly freed man would be transported. Mike thought for a minute. “Are your legs stretched out”? “Yeah, they’re pretty good.” The bald man suggested, “try this. Get in and push your back against the back of the seat and your legs on the floor. You should be able to hold your butt off the seat.” Climbing in, he grabbed the roof of the car, positioning himself as suggested. “Hey, this’ll work.” Mike climbed in the driver’s seat and they drove off, the investigators appearing in the rear-view mirror.
The parched prisoner chugged two more bottles of water out of Mike’s cooler before asking his pal to use his cell to call the wife. “Mine’s in my patrol car, and I don’t even know where that is.” “It’s back at the station,” replied the driver, passing his phone over to Derek. “Hi, hon…honey, I’m fine…really, it’s…don’t cry, baby. It’s over. Yes, there was an incident, but I’m fine…no, no don’t cut your visit short…really,, it’s okay. I’m completely fine…I’ll see you in a few days. Love you, too; bye.”
They drove to the McCollum house mostly in silence, Officer Bruekmann stealing a few glances at his awkwardly positioned passenger and the size-able lump bulging out of his seat. Pulling into the driveway of the neat split-level, Derek looked over at his hunky friend. “Buddy, I can’t thank you enough.” He leaned over, kind of half-hugging his pal, slapping him on the back. “It’s okay D. Get in there and clean yourself up. I’ll see you at the precinct in the morning.” Grabbing the roof of the car, the lanky officer pulled himself out, waddling to the door as the hunky driver watched, breathing in the remnants of stench left in the patrol car.
The house was eerily silent as he entered. The befouled officer made his way up the half flight of stairs and down the hall through the bedroom to the adjoining bath. Out of habit, he closed the door and stood there for a minute, as if unsure what to do next. Standing in front of the mirror, he stared at the handsome reflection, realizing that the water he had chugged was causing him to need to piss again. Also, as he hadn’t finished evacuating his bowels, there was a new pressure in his ass. Reaching down, he rubbed his hand over the still damp crotch of his uniform, feeling his dick respond. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. He palmed the ample bulge in his seat, which caused even more unprecedented reactions.
Grunting softly, he realized he was in a similar situation as he was in the abandoned warehouse; his bladder and bowels were protesting loudly. Almost as if in a trance, he reached behind him, pulling his cuffs out of the leather holder. He put the toilet seat down, and knelt down in front of it, laying his chest on the seat and reaching around the bowl. Laying his keys on the floor, he snapped the cuffs on his wrists, securing himself around the porcelain.
Instantly, he felt the helplessness he had before. His mind raced. He felt the need pressing as he squirmed against the metal of the cuffs holding him in place. Pleading with an imaginary captor, he struggled as his need grew, squirting pale yellow jets into his pants, gasping as he let go, flooding his trousers yet again. He watched as the maize pool spread across the white tile floor. Kicking his legs, he bore down, farting through the mess already contained in his underwear, pleading for help as he re-soiled his uniform trousers, the position allowing him to pump the rest of a substantial load into his seat.
Panting in ecstasy, he lay there for a moment before undoing the cuffs. He only undid the left wrist, standing and re-cuffing his arms behind his back. He pleaded again with thin air, “please don’t make me sit down, PLEASE”! He slowly lowered his body to the toilet seat, the massive load in his ass compressing into his butt crack as he did. He heard a soft squish as his ass made contact with the toilet lid. Undoing the cuffs, he unzipped, pulling his hard member out and rubbing it.
As he stroked his hardness, his mind shifted to Officer Bruekmann in the same situation; his muscular torso struggling against impenetrable bonds, his need overwhelming him as he helplessly pissed and shit himself. Three strokes later, he groaned as he shot, the first one firing all the way to the ceiling, the front of his uniform shirt glazed with man-jizz. After almost 30 seconds, he collapsed against the toilet tank, reaching up to wipe the cream from his face. Panting from exhaustion, he found the strength to stand. Looking in the mirror, all he saw was a human-shaped glazed doughnut. The entire front of his uniform was covered with sperm. He smiled broadly at his new-found revelation as he stripped, stepping into the hot shower.
Nine o’clock the next morning found Officer McCollum at the station, filling out his paperwork and submitting to an interview. He had seen nothing, so it was not a lengthy process. As he exited the interrogation room, he saw Officer Bruekmann in the hall. The bald stud came up to him. “Derek, man, how you doing”? He hugged his friend as he spoke, Derek’s mind racing as he did. “Dude, I’m fine, the interview is over, not like I could give them a lot of information.” He grabbed the muscular man by the sleeve. “Come here, I need to tell you something.”
He was on autopilot; he couldn’t believe he was about to say was was on his mind. He shared everything, the mindless locking of himself to the toilet, the re-messing of his pants, the pleading and begging and how it turned him on. The only thing he left out was his imagining Mike in that situation. Mike listened in rapt attention, showing only a poker-face. Derek couldn’t take it anymore. “Dude, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything. God, I’m such a fool”!
After a couple of seconds, Mike broke into a huge grin. “It was a 2×4 wall stud in my basement.” “What”? Derek replied. “Yeah, when I got home, I cuffed myself to a stud on that unfinished wall in my basement.” Officer McCollum was stupefied. Mike continued the story. “During that whole ordeal, I was so turned on, I almost shot in my pants. I don’t know why, but seeing you like that really turned my crank. When I went outside, I almost fainted from the realization of how horny that whole scene made me. So when I went home last night, I cuffed myself in my basement and struggled until I did…well just what you did yesterday.”
As the reality of what they were both saying his, the two of them broke into broad grins, almost simultaneously. Mike looked his friend in the eye. “What does this mean?” Derek smiled broadly as he replied, “well, I think it’s going to make boy’s night out a lot more interesting.”