By DogcatcherVA

This is a work of fiction. While it would be nice that it is real it isn’t. If you are not legal in your hometown to read such fiction, please do not do so. Also, if you like the story, please let me know and I may write more. This is my first work so please bear with me.

As I write this, I still find it sort of hard to believe. I mean in the area that I live in things like this just don’t happen. Let me introduce myself, my name is Peter William Peterson III. Yeah, my parents where twisted when they named me but as you can see I am not the only one in my family with such a crappy name. I usually go by “Pete” or if you meet me on my job, it is usually Officer. That is right I am a State Trooper. And before you get all those porn fantasies going let me nip them in the butt – I do not mix work and pleasure. I leave my uniform in the closet after I get off work. Yes, I have heard all the pickup lines and I really don’t care. Don’t let me come off as a hard ass because I am not. I am a nice guy. But I have been a trooper for 10 years now and most people go crazy when they hear it. I am 32, 6-foot-1, 205 pounds. No, you can’t bounce a coin of my stomach, but I am in good shape, and I try to stay that way. I run about 6 miles a day and that is how I met Caleb. Ha, Caleb, and I thought I had a bad name.

Let me tell you about Caleb. Caleb is in his mid-20s. He is 5-foot-6, 140 pounds of hotness. The whole “Blond hair, blue eyes, dream twink” look. We have been together for 2 years now, and this is how I met him.

Like I said before, things like this don’t happen in my neck of the woods. I don’t live in a big city or a small town. I call it suburban hell. Being in the biggest military area in the world has always had its perks and downfalls. Being the fact of the whole “Don’t ask Don’t Tell” policy keeps the gay population closeted. There is a nice park near my house that has a running trail that circles a nice lake. I like to run it because it is well wooded and very peaceful. I always hear the wind blowing through the trees and some birds or squirrels rustling through the leaves, but that day I heard a different sound that stopped me in my tracks. It was odd because I was on my second lap around the park when I heard it.

It was still pretty faint, but I knew I heard a moan. It was quickly followed by a rattle. I instantly knew what it was but was in disbelief of the sounds until I heard them a second time. The rattle was more of a clank. I realized what it was. Hard to miss the sound of chain links rattling together. I decided to get off the path and check out where the sound was coming from. Being a cop it is my duty to check to see if anyone is in distress.

As I made my way not even 100 feet off the main path I stumbled on the reason for the rattle. I really didn’t believe what I was seeing. Before me attached to one of the biggest trees in the park was a site straight from a porn movie. I couldn’t make out the man’s identity due to his head being locked into the most severe hood I have ever seen – a complete encasement of solid steel. As I examined it you could see the hex screws holding it in place. A chain was attached to the top of it clipping his head in place to the tree. The chain was locked and wasn’t going anywhere. As I scanned down his body, I noticed his tight compacted muscles. This guy worked out – I was thinking his body was that of a wrestler, but, whatever it was, I liked it. He was smooth — you could tell that it was natural. His muscular arms were stretched tightly behind him around the tree with a heavy set of handcuffs, locking his slender wrists in place. Around his waist and crotch was a stainless-steel chastity device that was highly polished. Farther down his smooth well-formed legs you could see heavy steel ankle restraints forcing him into a kneeling position.

As I scanned the sight before me, still in disbelief, I noticed a set of keys hanging from the D ring on the collar of the massive hood, as well as some sort of note. I examined the note and saw it said: “Free slave — take if wanted!” And there was an envelope that looked like it had more paper inside. I checked his pulse and tried to ask him a few questions but all I got was muffled grunts. I wasn’t sure what to do. Here I had every gay Top’s dream body in front of me but in the back of my mind I thought it had to be a set up. I mean people in this area don’t really announce the kinky lifestyle. And those that do wouldn’t be willing to lose this type of high dollar gear. I had to stop and think about this situation.

I am a bondage Top and have been looking for a slave, and here in front of me less than two miles away from my house was a chained slave for free. I decided to get back to the main path and watch the area and see what was going on. I sat till dusk when the park closed. I didn’t see a single person go near the chained man. I knew that the park closed at night so, when all I could see was the moon, I went back over to the chained body and grabbed the note off the collar.

“To whoever finds this waste of space: You are more than welcome to have him. He failed me as a slave, and he has failed life as a human. Attached to his collar are the keys to his restraints if you feel you want to remove them. You may keep the restraints as he wasn’t worth the effort of reusing them after he was in them.”

I thought the note was pretty harsh, but I was faced with a situation I have never been faced with before. I had already made my decision earlier in the day – at least in my mind I had. Now I had to do something about it. I saw a few bug bites on his skin and, knowing that he had been locked like this all day, knew that he would soon dehydrate and starve. I could not let him stay chained to die. So I did what any human being would do. I grabbed the keys, and I went to fetch my car. I get a take home police cruiser that I don’t pay to drive or use the gas, so I usually use it more than my own car. Knowing that the local police would check the park for people having sex, seeing my cruiser wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

After I brought my cruiser up the pathway, I stopped near where the “slave” was. I had to figure how I was to get him home. While I have had tons of criminals in the back seat in handcuffs, this one was different. At least most of them were dressed. So, I decided maybe the trunk would be the best place for him. Thank goodness I still have a Crown Vic – they can hold a few bodies in the trunk. I walked back to him and saw he was starting to get restless – he was moaning and fighting against his restraints a lot more. I walked up to him and gently touched his heaving chest, which seemed to settle him down.

I decided that I should still have him restrained till I find out more about him. So, I undid the cuffs and rubbed his sore arms and then redid them behind his back. He seemed defeated after the quick burst of freedom and the motion in his arms and seemed to go into a sulking position. I unlocked the massive chains around his ankles from around the tree giving him movement once again to straighten his legs. You could see the marks around his knees where he had spent at least the last 10 hours on them. “Only one more chain to go,” I thought as I unlatched the chain holding his massive helmet to the tree. The poor slave was so sore from being in the kneeling position he could barely stand.

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank DogcatcherVA for this story and welcome him to the Prison Library!