And so, amid honking horns and irate drivers, he performed an illegal u-turn and headed back in the direction of Santa Monica State Beach. Once he started walking along the sun-bleached sand, it did not take long for Mother Nature to weave her therapeutic magic. The hypnotic crash of waves and screeching aow uh-uh-uh of the California Gulls soon eased the tension in his neck and shoulders, along …show more content…
with helping him put the nagging doubts about his job into perspective. He had always loved the outdoors, but after joining the force, he barely found time to take a stroll in the park. Therefore, spending time wandering along the water’s edge helped to restore his rationality. While he loved his job, he often struggled with the aftermath of an arrest. Most of the teens he collared looked so young when they arrived at court; all dressed up in their Sunday best, their worried parents in tow. It was then that the reality hit him hard, and he could not help but wonder if instead of steering the young delinquents toward a life of salvation, he was, in fact, indoctrinating them into a life of incarceration. Some were scared straight, but others took to life in detention like a duck to water. It was a fine line between good and evil, and it made him uncomfortable to think about it.
After spending several hours quietly pondering the ramifications of his job, he suddenly realized Booker had expected him to call hours ago. With his eyes scanning the busy boulevard, he spotted a payphone and jogging over the warm sand, he entered the booth and rang his lover. Booker quickly reassured him he wasn’t angry, and he even went as far as to suggest they cancel their dinner plans so they could spend a quiet night at home listening to music and talking. It was one of the many things Tom adored about his lover. Not only was he intelligent, funny and gorgeous, he could also be extremely nurturing, and he always knew how to help him through the tough times. Not that any of their co-workers would have believed it because Booker had a knack of coming across as smug, egotistical and extremely insensitive. But Tom knew better. Dennis put up defenses to protect himself from the cruelties of the world. He had suffered constant bullying at high school because of his sexuality, and therefore, he had developed an I don’t give a shit tough guy persona just to survive. But it was all a facade. Scratch the surface of his bristly exterior, and underneath lay a heart of gold. For Tom, being one of the few people to know the real Dennis Booker was a privilege, and he thanked the universe every day for bringing them together.
Now, as he stood outside his apartment, he wondered if Dennis was already inside, biding his time until he walked through the door. He could imagine him relaxing on the couch; a bottle of Jack and two tumblers in readiness on the table, his bow-shaped lips eagerly waiting to kiss away the pain. It was the tonic Tom needed to put the day behind him, and pulling out his key, he promptly unlocked the door.
The sight of his dim apartment immediately quashed any fantasy of his lover rushing to meet him with open arms and exhaling a heavy sigh, he flicked the light switch. When the room remained shrouded in darkness, a deep frown knitted his brow. He tried the switch several more times before walking across the room and turning on the occasional lamp. But the room stayed dark, and it slowly dawned on him that maybe there was a power outage.
“Fucking perfect,” he muttered to himself, and walking over to the door, he angrily kicked it closed with the toe of his boot. The harvest moon cast enough light through the curtainless window for him to walk into the kitchen without banging into anything, and he made his way straight to the liquor cupboard. The thought of Jack Daniel’s had brought on a thirst, and licking his lips, his mind went into sensory overload as he imagined the woody essence of his favorite whiskey exploding against his tongue, the sweet sapidity setting his taste buds on fire.
He reached out for the bottle, his mind so focused on having a drink, he did not notice the shadowy figure moving stealthily across the room until it was too late. Someone came at him from behind; an arm wrapped around his neck, and a warm hand wrenched his right arm behind his back. Panic rose in his throat, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of fear and he struggled to break free from his attacker’s hold. But his assailant was too strong, too determined and a feeling of dread filled his heart. He was in trouble.
Warm breath caressed his cheek, sending a shiver of foreboding down his spine. The rapid whooshing of blood pounding in his ears made it difficult for him to concentrate, and he struggled to hear the intruder softly spoken words.
“Someone’s been a bad, bad, boy.”
Although barely audible, the teasing tone was instantly recognizable, and excitement immediately replaced Tom's fear. A discernible hardness pressed against his backside, and suppressing a moan, his muscles relaxed against the warm, partially dressed body behind him.
“I’m sorry, Officer Booker,” he capitulated meekly, his timid voice trembling with mock terror. “Please don’t hurt me … it won’t happen again.”
Booker’s arm maintained a slight pressure around Tom’s throat, but not enough to hurt him. It was all about dominance, and nothing sent blood flowing to his cock quicker than hearing his lover’s soft, compliant voice. He was the one in control, and he was going to teach Tom a lesson.
Without applying enough force to cause an injury, he twisted Tom’s arm higher up his back, the force pushing him up on his tiptoes. “You said that last time,” he admonished softly against the shell-like curve of his captive’s ear. “And you know what happens when you lie to me.”
Tom’s shoulder muscles bunched painfully, and an intense burning sensation radiated throughout his upper body, bringing tears to his eyes. But the discomfort did not dampen his growing arousal. Instead, it acted more like an aphrodisiac, and a rush of blood flowed to his lower extremities. “Yes,” he gasped. “I know! I know!”
A low growl rumbled deep in Booker’s chest, and leaning in closer, he slowly swept his tongue up the side of Tom’s face. “Tell me,” he whispered menacingly against the smooth, moist flesh. “Tell me what happens.”
“You punish me!” Tom squeaked, pain and excitement sending a full body tremor from his head to his toes.
Pleased with the response, Booker lessened his grip slightly, the movement lowering Tom back to the soles of his feet. “That’s right,” he stated, and releasing his hold completely, he shoved his prisoner toward the direction of the bedroom. “Now, move it.”
Having stood on his tiptoes, Tom’s feet had lost some feeling, and he stumbled forward. But a hand on his back helped propel him into his bedroom and stopping next to the bed, he waited for instructions.
“Strip.”
The authoritative tone of Booker’s voice raised the fine hairs on Tom’s forearms.
He was already semi-erect, and if previous experience was anything to go by, he knew Booker was too. As he slowly removed his clothing, he managed to sneak a look at the dark-haired officer. Naked except for his police hat, belt, and shirt—the latter unbuttoned—Booker’s erect cock jutted proudly out in front of him, the long, thick shaft nestled enticingly in a bush of tight, dark curls. His belt was buckled low on his bare hips, and a pair of handcuffs hung on either side of the soft leather, their metallic glint signaling hinting at what was to come. The sight was so erotic, Tom struggled to suppress a moan. But he fought against his desires and managed to stay in character. It was, after all, a role-playing game and for it to work, he needed to remain
submissive.
Once naked, he stood obediently next to the bed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Soft moonlight illuminated the room, casting abstract shadows over the pale walls, and even though he knew what was about to happen next, the event never failed to excite him.
“Turn around,” Booker instructed in a low, husky voice.
Tom did as Booker asked, and when he saw the halter-style leather cock ring in the dark-haired officer’s hand, a tremor ran down the entire length of his body. “Please, Officer Booker,” he implored with large, doe-like eyes. “I promise I won’t—”
“Silence!” Booker barked and taking a step forward, he fitted the bindings around Tom’s penis and testicles and tightened the base strap. The sensation of Dennis’ fingers toying with his erection threaten to send another moan tumbling from Tom’s lips, but he knew better than to make even the slightest sound of pleasure ... at least not yet. With his cock now completely hard, the leather armor highlighted the magnificence of his erection, and he was more than ready for some action. But he knew the rules; he had to wait until Dennis gave him his orders, and then he would receive his punishment.