2013-01-23 - lthr_jock - Attitude Change

Author: lthr_jock
Title: Attitude Change
Date: 23 January 2013

Steve Talbot sighed as he settled back into the driver's seat of his patrol car. It was a slow night and Steve was on solo patrol. He'd driven around for a couple of hours and, as usual for him, had parked up near the Fenwick St industrial estate. Several of the units here were empty, abandoned during the recession, and this was a favourite place for people to hang out to smoke pot. Steve usually caught a couple of people each night.

Steve wriggled slightly to make himself more comfortable and wished he could smoke in the car. Of all the changes he'd seen in the job, the worst was not being able to grab a sneaky cigarette in the car on a night shift. Steve yawned and stretched as much as he could in the confines of the car. His 6ft 4' bulk filled the driver's seat, and despite being 37 years old, most of his bulk was still muscle. Steve worked hard to keep in shape and was at the gym most days. Steve still looked good - his black hair only had a few flecks of grey and he kept it well trimmed in a military flat-top. He sported a goatee which was tightly trimmed - he had to keep it in check as he was naturally hairy as evidenced by the substantial amount of chest hair peeking out at the neck of his shirt and his hairy arms. Steve let his thoughts drift back to the 21 year old girl he'd been out with the night before. Like all the girls he dated, she was much younger than himself and the relationship never went past more than 2 or 3 dates. Still, Steve didn't regret it - plenty of time to think about settling down. He still looked like a stud and could have any woman he wanted. Steve deliberately ordered his uniform a size too small to exaggerate his muscles and more than once had got appreciative comments from women while he was on duty.

Steve looked up sharply as he heard a noise from one of the nearby buildings. He just caught a glimpse of movement as someone ran around the side of the structure, probably heading for the side door. This was a favourite haunt of the druggies as the company had gone out of business and the side door was usually insecure. Steve quietly slipped out of the car and gently pushed the door closed. He grabbed his torch in one hand and went to call the job in. Then he changed his mind - he didn't need backup to arrest a pot-head. Moving quietly despite his large frame, he quickly followed the person around the corner. The alleyway was illuminated weakly from the street behind him, and Steve could see that the side door was ajar. He confidently moved to the door and then heard footsteps inside running away from him. 'HEY! POLICE! STOP RIGHT THERE!' he bellowed and flicked on his torch just in time to see a dark shape heading further into the building.

Steve immediately chased after them, repeating his shout and running headlong into the building. He had been in here several times before, so he knew there was no furniture to trip over and the only risk was the occasional hole in the floor or wall. Even so, his blood was up and he ignored even that minor hazard. Ahead of him he could hear footsteps clattering faster and he realised they were now coming from the stairwell. He ran onto the landing and flashed his torch up and down. Upwards, there was nothing, but downwards he saw a flash of movement and the shine of a leather jacket closely followed by the bang of a door. Steve charged down the stairs.

At the bottom he could see the door still swinging slightly in the flash of his torch. Steve barged through it and to his surprise found someone stood just inside it. In the torchlight he just got a glimpse of a black leather jacket and before he could do anything else, the figure raised a hand and sprayed something directly into Steve's face.

Steve staggered backwards, his eyes stinging and reached down for his baton. Whatever had been sprayed into his eyes nose and mouth was blurring his vision and the acrid taste was making him gag. He unclipped his baton and drew it, snapping it out to its full length 'POLICE - get down on the floor NOW!' His normally authoritative voice ended in a cough and he felt himself stagger. His head was swimming and he tried to draw breath. As he did, the figure sprayed Steve right in the mouth. This time, the drug had an almost immediate effect and Steve heard the baton clatter to the floor as he slumped against the wall, fighting to stay awake. Now panicking, Steve grabbed at his spray and felt his hand slapped contemptuously to one side as he slid into unconsciousness. Steve slumped to the floor, barely conscious and unable to resist as the figure approached closer and sprayed him for a third time. The fine mist in his face and throat was the last thing Steve remembered as the world went black.

Steve woke up groggily and shook his head to try and clear it. His arms were uncomfortably restrained behind his back, as were his legs. He fumbled with his fingers and found thick metal shackles around each wrist. They were held together by a thick chain. Steve tried to move and as he pulled his arms his legs pulled back towards his head. He realised he was restrained in a hog tie. He couldn't see anything as the room was pitch dark. He could hear a dull roar but couldn't work out what it was. He could smell mold but that didn't help him at all.

'HEY!! What the fuck is going on?' he yelled. There were a few seconds of silence and then the sharp creak of metal. About 15 feet away from him, a metal door swung open to reveal the bright flames of a furnace beyond it. Even at this distance, Steve felt the heat slap at him with an almost physical presence. The dull roar got louder and he realised this was what he could hear. He looked around. Whoever had opened the door was stood behind the furnace door and he couldn't see them. In the dim flickering light, he could see a filthy cement floor, strewn with rubbish. There was nothing else he could see, apart from his stab vest, kit belt and boots which were lying halfway between Steve and the furnace.

'Alright, you've had your fun. Now get this shit off me.'

The figure did not move for about a minute, then walked out from behind the door. The man was a similar size to Steve in that he was about 6ft4' tall and heavily built. He was wearing bike leathers and a pair of heavy cleated boots that clumped across the floor. Steve could not see his face which was covered with a black bandana and a leather baseball cap. He walked over to Steve and then past him, ignoring Steve completely as Steve continued to try and talk to him.

'Look, you've made some kind of mistake but it's not too late to sort this out. Now unlock these chains and let me...'

Steve stopped talking abruptly as the stranger dropped an 8' bowie knife on the cement floor right in front of Steve's face. The sight of the metal gleaming red in the light from the furnace and only inches from his face made Steve mouth go dry and for a moment his mind went blank with terror. With an effort he pulled himself together.

'You don't want to do anything you're going to regret. Just...MPPHHH!'

As Steve spoke the stranger reached around in front of him and with practiced skill slipped a ball gag into his mouth. Steve tried to shake it out but couldn't stop the gag being tightened and strapped in place. He could immediately feel himself start to drool around the gag.

'MPPPPHHHH!!! Wo th fkkk?'

Steve redoubled his struggles in the restraints, making the chains clank loudly and his muscles sweat through his uniform short. The stranger moved round to his front and crouched down before picking up the knife. Steve screamed and yelled into the gag but could do nothing to prevent the stranger leaning forward and pressing the tip of the knife lightly against Steve's collarbone. Steve froze, able to feel the light pressure of the knife and unable to do anything to stop the stranger.

The stranger chuckles, a deep throaty sound that sent shivers down Steve's spine. With a swift, assured movement, he pulled the knife downwards through the material of Steve's shirt, splitting it from top to bottom and revealing Steve's hairy, muscular chest and abs. Steve gasped with shock and then coughed as the drool in his mouth went down his throat. By the time he recovered the stranger had already moved down to Steve's uniform trousers and cut them down the outside of each leg.

Now Steve started yelling again, twisting and writhing in the restraints as the stranger methodically cut through his jockstrap and socks until he was left in the shreds of his uniform. Then he stood, ripped Steve's clothes completely off him and took a step back, enjoying the sight of this muscular policeman, naked and helpless in front of him. A chime from the strangers iPhone reminded him that he had limited time and he scooped up Steve's clothing and carried it over to the furnace. With a dramatic pause, he threw it all inside. He then returned, picked up Steve's stab vest, boots and belt and consigned them to the flames as well.

As the stranger walked back to Steve, he looked on in confusion wondering what the hell was going on. His struggles did nothing except cover him with a sheen of sweat and the gag had caused him to leave a puddle of drool on the concrete floor. The stranger then took his iPhone out and started taking photos of Steve, zooming in on his face several times as Steve yelled abuse into the gag. Putting the phone away, he unzipped his bike leathers and pulled out his cock which was already rock hard. Steve yelled and tried to wriggle away but again to his surprise, the stranger didn't move towards him. Instead he started to jack himself off with long slow strokes of his gloved hand.

The situation had the stranger already very aroused, taking down this muscled cop and so he quickly got close to cumming. Before doing so, he pulled out a leather hood and, holding it in one hand, he brought himself to orgasm with the other. Thick ropes of creamy cum spurted out of his cock as a shocked Steve looked on and the stranger caught them inside the hood. Steve looked on bemused and as the stranger took a step forward and held the hood out, Steve realised what was about to happen. He bellowed into the gag and shook his head to left and right to try and stop the stranger from sliding the hood over his head. He succeeded for a few seconds, but the stranger soon got the better of him and the last thing he saw was a pool of milky cum on the inside of thick black leather as the hood slid in place. The disgust he felt at the cum smeared over his face and hair made him miss the sensation as the stranger laced the hood tightly shut and then secured it with a padlock.

Steve could now see nothing and his hearing was muffled by the thick leather. He stopped yelling, trying instead to listen for the clump of the stranger's feet on the floor. He heard nothing. Suddenly, he smelt something through the nose-holes - a sweet, acrid smell that he could not identify. As he breathed it in, he felt himself go dizzy and seconds later, he passed out.