The guy had sounded in a really bad way, the nice girl on the local domestic situations hotline had

The guy had sounded in a really bad way, the nice girl on the local domestic situations hotline had said. I agreed to look in on the way bacjk to the Station. It’s no heavy cop stuff in our district. We’re a pretty quiet community anyway. And the whole thing is light touch and being - yeah, I can say it, “caring”. But when I drove up the bumpy track to the middle of the ass-hole of nowhere, and I could see him standing, topless. outside a grimy trailer next his shack of a home, I reassuringly touched the butt of my weapon.It took him a while to work off his rant. Couldn’t get what he was about. I just “I guess so, sir”. And then he was calm and he said “You see, I saw you with your girlfriend at the Foodmart. Then I saw you there again”. And he walked into the kitchen area and when he came back h had a .45 caliber weapon in his left hand pointed straight at my head and dead calm.He said quietlike, “Take off your uniform, son. I mean strip… yeah strip! But first take of your service belt.”Maybe I should have gone for my weapon. But his hand was steady. Maybe I should’ve used my fists. He’s my height, but scrawny. Wiry maybe. And he had a.45. Anyway, too late now. I put them all down: weapon holster, phone, cuffs, and the heavy-duty belt.“Strip!” he said “I mean it. Don’t think I wouldn’t use this.” He motioned with his .45. “What do want with my uniform, for f..k’ssake. Won’t do you no good.”“We’ll see”, he said. I stripped slowly, trying to think.”I kept my briefs on. He made me pick up the cuffs and cuff one wrist.“Hands behind your back. And then cuff the other wrist.”“For f..kssake,” I aid. But did what he said. As the other cuff clicked firm, I knew I was out my depth. My bigger body was , what they say in training - “neutalized”. The distant sound of  a shot would mean nothing to anyone.  “Now butt naked, son” he said.“Fuck that, mister.” He reversed the .45 and hit be across the neck. I went down. When I came to, I was naked and he was holding a hank of rope and a stick, like an old-fashioed night-stick.. There were two more on the floor, next my head.. He was already tying my wrists. Tight. When he’d finished, he felt around, found the keys and removed the cuffs.“Get up kid”, he said, “And walk through to the back.” First the kitchen, then through a door into a dingy room.“It’s all ready for you. Lay down there. On your front kid.”When I as faced down on hard, wooden planks, he tied my ankles”Then he turned on the light. I saw the ropes, masks and gags arranged on hooks.“No. No. Please”He hit me with the night. I screamed. he hit me again stick. He said sort of to himself/ “Don’t need a gag. No-one hears things here. Maybe later”.He turned to me “Maybe later. Gagged. For now, if you yell, I’ll use the stick.” Then he started with the rope. “I’ve used rope before on guys just like you.” Halfway through, he paused and said “I’ll truss you good.”He didn’t just pile on rope. He knew how to place and tighten each one. “We can have fun, son. I’ll teach you. I won’t hurt you, ‘less you don’t do what you’re told.”He’s walking about the room. His had goes to a ballgag hanging on a hook. He picks it, and licks his thin lips. He walks on a bit and lifts a plaited leather whip off a hook, looks round at me and smiles friendly and  says. “Just the gag, I guess, son.” I try my strength again the ropes. I can lift my head a few inches. Every other way, the ropes hold me tight. -- source link

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