♥ Site recommended story ♥
Brand new spanking fiction by guest author Macstrap – strictly over 18s only!
I have always been attracted to men in uniform, police, army, firefighters, but mainly policemen. If I saw one on foot patrol I would follow him, admiring his body and the equipment he carried, handcuffs, baton, noticing the fit of his uniform and his well-polished boots.
I was on the lookout for a new job. The one I had since leaving college was becoming boring and repetitious and seemed to be going nowhere. After scanning the situations vacant columns in local newspapers for several weeks, I was immediately attracted to a vacancy at the town’s main police station. The post was described as an administration officer and the list a responsibilities was nothing I couldn’t tackle with ease. I phoned the number given and requested an application form which I completed and returned along with a copy of my CV.
After an anxious wait of over three weeks I received a letter inviting me for an interview. I spent the time before the interview thinking about what questions they might ask and what my replies should be. The day of the interview arrived; I dressed smartly determined to make a good first impression. There were three people on the interview panel, a senior police officer, the administration manager and a representative from the human resources department.
The interview seemed to be going well. A lot of the questions I had anticipated were asked and I had my answer ready. Then the senior police officer asked why I wanted that particular job. I didn’t think my truthful reply that I wanted to be around hunky police officers would do anything for my chances so, thinking on my feet, I replied that I wanted to support the police in what I imagined was at times a difficult job. This seemed to go down well with the interview panel and I was told that they would be in touch.
I had an agonising wait of 48 hours before I received a phone call offering me the job which, of course, I accepted. There followed another month of form filling, security checks and working out my notice before I actually started the job.
The day finally arrived. I was shown to what was to be my office and introduced to a mature police constable, PC Reg Freer, who was retiring after doing the admin job for the past two years. This coincided with the post being civilianised. My small office was on the ground floor of the police station unlike the main admin offices which were on the first floor. The ground floor was where the operational side of the station was and as my main duties were concerned with operational matters, that’s where I was conveniently located.
As each shift finished the officers brought to my office intelligence reports, completed summonses and warrants, vehicle logs and overtime claim forms. PC Freer explained how to process these and where they all should go. He explained that I may meet a little resistance at first; some officers are against civilianisation, but providing I was pleasant and helpful I should be OK.
I was delighted that to reach the nearest toilet facilities I had to cross the corridor to the locker room which contained the toilets and showers. If I was really lucky I might catch a glimpse of an officer clad only in a towel emerging from the showers. I perhaps visited the locker room more than was necessary. I found its aroma of masculinity a real turn on.
Eventually PC Freer left and I was on my own. I had started to choose my favourites out of the many officers that came to my office. I picked out one in particular, PC Craig Russell, early 30s, well over 6 feet tall and with a muscular build. His uniform fitted perfectly showing an attractive backside and an inviting bulge at the front. I even managed to check his personal record and discovered that he was single which made him even more interesting.
About two months into the job I was giving out wage slips to the officers coming on duty. These included Craig Russell who came in to the office to collect his before he had fully changed for duty. He wore a black leather jacket over his uniform shirt which somehow increased his appeal. A few moments later he was back holding his wage slip which he had removed from its envelope.
He approached my desk. “There’s something wrong here. I’ve not been paid for last month’s overtime.”
One of my responsibilities is to collate all authorised overtime claims and send them off to headquarters. I went to a filing cabinet and took out last month’s return hoping to find the mistake was made at headquarters, but looking down the list there was no entry for PC Craig Russell so it was my mistake. I put the list down on my desk aware that Craig was behind me looking over my shoulder. I was distracted by his intoxicating scent, a manly smell combined with the natural smell of his leather jacket.
“So, where’s my name?” he asked stretching further over my shoulder.
I was unsure of what to say. “I… I’m sorry” I stammered, “It looks like I accidentally missed you off the list”.
PC Russell looked annoyed. “It never happened when Reg was doing the job. Just make sure it’s put right… OK?”
“Yes, sure… Look, I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again” I assured him.
“It better not, or else I’ll make an official complaint” was his parting shot as he left the office.
Fortunately, after a phone call to headquarters, I managed to arrange for an extra payment to me made to PC Russell to cover his overtime. I just hoped this wouldn’t be held against me as was on a six month probationary period.
Later, when the early shift had all gone and the afternoon shift had all left the station, I crossed the corridor to the locker room. As I passed by the lines of lockers, one grabbed my attention. The locker was slightly open and a familiar leather jacket hung over the top corner of the door. Sure enough the name on the locker was PC Russell. Remembering the intoxicating smell from earlier, I put my face into the jacket and inhaled deeply… wonderful! The locker door swung open further, inside I saw a used T-shirt which I grabbed and sniffed, increasing my excitement.
Suddenly there was a shout behind me “WHAT THE…?”
I turned and to my horror saw that whilst I had been enjoying myself, PC Russell had entered the locker room. Grabbing me he slammed me face first into the locker forcing my right arm up my back.
“Looks like I’ve caught you in the act” he hissed in my ear. “What you looking for… my wallet… money? You won’t find any so you’re in the shit for nothing.”
“I wasn’t trying to steal anything, honestly, you’ve got to believe me” I panicked.
“Oh yes, so what were you doing? It better be good or else I’ll take you straight to custody and charge you with attempted theft” he retorted releasing his arm lock and turning me round.
What was I going to say? There seemed to be no other explanation I could give other than the truth.
“I was smelling your leather jacket and then I saw you T-shirt” I confessed in little more than a whisper.
PC Russell grinned. “So, you’re a little faggot. It’s been noticed how much time you spend in here, now we know why. The next thing is how I deal with you.”
“Please don’t report me, I really like this job” I pleaded.
“First you lose my last month’s overtime, now you interfere with my personal property. You can’t expect to get away Scott free, so are you going to accept my punishment?”
“Yes, but please don’t report me” I pleased.
“OK, this is the deal. Meet me when I finish duty at 10 o’clock at the top end of the car park, don’t be late, I won’t hang about waiting for you” he warned.
I returned to the station in plenty of time and stood in the shadow of the building at the top of the car park as instructed. At 10 o’clock I heard the late shift leaving and saw cars being driven out of the car park. A few minutes later I saw PC Russell approaching, he had changed from his uniform top into his leather jacket, but apart from that was still in uniform.
“Glad to see you’re here” he said grabbing me and turning me to face the wall holding my arms behind my back. I heard a click and my wrists were handcuffed into position.
“We’re going for a drive to my place to get you sorted out” he told be leading me none too gently towards his car. I was pushed into the back seat and the seatbelt fastened around me.
We drove to his place, a small, modern house on a development on the outskirts of the town. He parked in the driveway, opened the rear door, released the seatbelt and guided me out and towards his front door. Inside he took me to a sitting room, drew down the blinds and looked me over for a few seconds.
“So, you definitely agree to take my punishment?” he asked.
“Yes” I almost whispered.
He produced his keys and released the handcuffs “Right, strip” he ordered.
“Sorry, what?” I asked, confused.
“You heard … STRIP” he shouted.
I then began to realise what he may have in mind, but it was preferable to the alternative. I took off my top followed by my trainers, socks and jeans leaving just my boxer shorts.
PC Russell took off his jacket and threw it over a chair. I caught a whiff of its manly scent. He then caught me by the arm and roughly yanked down my boxers before sitting down, pulling me over his knee and then completely removing my boxers leaving me naked.
“Firstly I’ll deal with the lost overtime. You need to learn to be less careless and this may help” he told me as he positioned me squarely across his knees.
SMACK! He brought his big, heavy hand down hard across both buttocks. I had always thought that hand spanking was a fairly light punishment for kids, but the way PC Russell was dishing it out was anything but light. As the smacks continued I squirmed about on his lap, my cock rubbing up against the rough serge of his uniform trousers causing my cock to become harder and harder. The punishment was hurting, but at the same time I felt a kind of pleasure at receiving this sort of attention.
Finally the smacks stopped and PC Russell hauled me to my feet. My cock was rock hard. He started at it for a moment whilst I rubbed my red hot arse cheeks furiously.
“Looks like you enjoyed that” he observed. “Let’s see if you feel the same after the next bit. We’ve still got interfering with my property to deal with and in my book that’s a lot more serious.”
The next thing I knew PC Russell was again securing me in his handcuffs, this time at the front and guiding me towards a large leather armchair.
“Bend over the back and stay there until I tell you otherwise” he instructed. I did as he said, leaving my backside high and exposed.
“Legs further apart” he ordered, encouraging my feet to the sides with his boot.
When he was satisfied with my position, PC Russell moved to the side of the chair, I could see him in my peripheral vision stripping off his shirt, unbuckling his uniform belt and pulling it free from the loops. As he removed it I could see it was wide and of thick leather. He folded it double and swiped it across his hand.
“So, you like the smell of leather, see how you like this” he said as he hung the belt near my face so I could smell its scent. “Only this time you’re going to feel some leather, some heavy police leather.”
I grabbed the chair harder waiting for the first stroke. It came with a loud crack high on my arse re-igniting the heat of the previous spanking. Further stokes followed getting lower. I ground my teeth trying not to cry out, but not completely successfully. As when I was being spanked, my cock was getting harder, this time rubbing on the leather of the chair. PC Russell certainly knew how to use a belt leading me to think that this wasn’t his first time.
I had probably received about 10 strokes when my cock was so hard I knew I was going to cum and, at that moment, I understood something I had read about the thin line between pain and pleasure. The belting was painful, but being administered by a man I seriously fancied which seemed to make the difference. Also I was close to cumming and on the next stroke, with a load groan, I ejaculated on the back of the leather chair.
PC Russell seemed to have noticed and grabbing me by the arm, pulled me to my feet. The evidence was on the back of the chair. He forced my head down onto the sticky mess.
“Lick it clean you filthy little faggot” he ordered.
I did as he said desperately wanting to rub my red hot stinging arse cheeks, but the handcuffs prevented me. When the back of the chair was clean he pushed me backover.
“No more, I’m sorry, honestly” I pleased.
PC Russell laughed “Don’t worry; I’ve got something else in mind now.”
I instantly knew what this was when he flung his belt down and I heard a zip being undone followed by his hands on my thighs pulling me onto his hard cock. He was good, very good, occasionally encouraging me with further slaps on my arse.
Eventually he collapsed onto me dripping in sweat. “Well done” he said. “You’ve passed the test.”
“What test” I asked.
PC Russell stood up, helped me to my feet and released the handcuffs. “The first time I saw you I suspected you were a faggot” he explained. “I’m on the lookout for my own faggot so you played into my hands. Come with me.”
I followed him into a spare bedroom containing just a bare bed and a double door cupboard. He opened the doors. On each door was a rail with objects handing. A flogger, leather paddles, belts, and restraints. Hanging inside the cupboard was leather clothing and a full leather harness.
“So, what’s your answer?” PC Russell asked.
What else could I say but ‘yes’? There were going to be some exciting times ahead.
D I S C L A I M E R
All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real businesses or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Story and photography © MMXIV by Macstrap
All rights reserved
Used here by very kind permission of the author
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