By Hunter Perez

“Are you comfortable back there?” Nicky asked through the mesh separating the front of the police car from the back.

“Not really,” I responded. “I assume I’m not supposed to be.”

“You got that right,” he laughed.

I wasn’t quite certain how I should be feeling. Sitting with arms handcuffed behind your back creates a multiple number of issues, which are not helped by being nearly immobilized with a tight seatbelt. I kept shifting sideways and trying to inch forward, but I could never find the right position where I didn’t feel pressure in some part of my body.

Part of me was angry at the stupidity of thinking with my dick – whatever pleasure that was sparked by allowing myself to be handcuffed was erased by the discomfort of my inability to get into a relaxed position.

Yet at the same time, part of me was aroused by the absurdity of the situation. Nicky turned into a truly gorgeous specimen of masculinity, made all the more exciting by his law enforcement authority. Being his prisoner, if only for a brief period of amusement, created a sense of excitement that was truly arousing – perhaps too arousing, as I was also dealing with an erection pushing against my jeans.

I remembered the time back in college when Nicky had me handcuff him so he could service me while I controlled him. I wondered if that was what he had in mind by turning tables in this manner. I then began to recall some stories I read by the writer Joshua Ryan where guys get tricked by sexy cops and correctional officers into getting arrested and sent to prison – those stories seemed so wild in concept, but now I could see how someone could fall victim to such chicanery.

Nicky drove us out of Albuquerque and onto a highway, but except for his brief question on my comfort he offered no immediate conversation. I couldn’t tell whether he was falling into his professional habits – I am not an expert on these things, but I assume that arresting officers and their handcuffed prey do not fall in deep conversations – or whether this was some sort of a mind game he was playing. After what seemed like too long of a silence, I decided to speak up.

“You said you do this as volunteer work,” I said.

“Yes, that’s what auxiliary police work is all about,” he said. “Like volunteer firefighters. I get some benefits – there is a local tax break for us. But I only do this in my free time.”

“You never told me what you did for a living,” I said.

“You never asked,” he answered.

“Well, I’m asking now,” I said.

For the first time since we left the hotel, Nicky turned around and looked back at me. He smiled at me, somewhat less gleefully then when he first spotted me.

“I work for a government contractor,” he said. “I can’t really speak at length about the nature of the work. I hope you understand.”

“I understand,” I said, even though I felt he was being evasive.

By this point, the handcuffs were starting to annoy me. The initial carnal thrill about being secured wore off as the metal made its presence felt in my flesh. Still, the absurdity of the situation gave me pleasure and I was surprised that my erection had yet to abate.

“I closed on a new house last month,” he volunteered. “I’d love to show it to you. It’s really beautiful – it has a pool, a hot tub and a patio overlooking the mountains. At night, I love to sit out on the patio and look up at the stars. I try to figure out which constellation is which, but I can’t tell one from the other.”

“You can always tell which one is Orion,” I volunteered. “It has three stars in a diagonal line – that’s the belt of Orion.”

“When do you have to leave?” he asked.

“My flight is Sunday at noon,” I said. “After you show me this ghost town you talked about, I’d love to take a look at your place.”

Nicky looked back at me again, this time with a somber expression. “I want you to do more than take a look,” he said. “Is it possible for you to stay a few extra days? I want you to be my guest. This has been such a wonderful place for me, and I’d love to share it with you.”

I giggled at his statement, which caused him to turn around again – this time with a somewhat annoyed look.

“No, it’s just that my boss isn’t going to give me more time off,” I explained. “I already had vacation this year, and he kept insisting on how generous he was in letting me have today to myself.”

“I would love for you to stay with me as my guest,” he said.

“So would I,” I said, even though I knew the statement was not sincere. “But I have to get home to New York. Maybe when you have vacation time, you can come visit me.”

“I would like that,” he said. “Your building looks very elegant, with the old-style red brick exterior and that modern sculpture and fountain at the entrance. I saw one of the apartments for sale on a real estate site and it looks very stylish, and very expensive.”

A terrible sensation rushed over me – I suddenly felt chilled and nauseous. The bondage that I volunteered to carry felt heavy, almost to the point of paralysis.

“Nicky, how do you know where I live?” I said.

He turned back again, this time smirking. “It’s not difficult to find people if you want to look for them,” he said before turning his eyes back to the highway. “I’ve been to New York a few times and I saw your building. You know, one time I thought I would surprise you and I went over to where you live at six in the morning. It was a weekday – I think it was either a Tuesday or Wednesday – and I thought I would surprise you by waiting outside and saying hello, as if we encountered each other by a happy accident. It was January and it was cold, but I was patient and waited and waited. About eight in the morning, you came out holding hands with some blond twink wearing a weird multicolored jacket. I watched you guys kiss and then go your separate ways. You didn’t even see me.”

My head started pounding – Nicky recalled a brief romance I had from five years ago with an artist who created more problems than solutions in my life. But knowing that he was spying on me at the time shocked me.

“But you could have told me you were in town,” I said. “Why didn’t you…”

“Why didn’t I just knock on the door while you were fucking your twink?” he blurted out. The car suddenly jerked faster on the highway, with his driving taking a cue from his emotions. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure it would have been all nostalgia if I just waltzed back into your life when you already had someone else that you gave your heart and your cock.”

“Shut up!” I yelled in a voice that I never used before. “Take me back to my hotel – I am not going to be spoken to like that. And take these damn cuffs me. I am not going to play prisoner to you – this game is over.”

Nicky pulled the car over to the side of the highway and turned off the engine. He slumped across the steering wheel, then straightened himself and turned around.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice in a near-whisper. “That was stupid of me. You’re the very last person in the world that I want to hurt. I am ashamed of myself for saying that. Please forgive me.”

Nicky exited the car and stood along the highway. I couldn’t help but enjoy the physical beauty of his muscular body encased in his uniform – and I could understand why the tourists would go crazy for him, especially with that Stetson hat with topped the perfect presentation. But the emotional neediness that permeated his original messaging was ruinous, and my discomfort was greater than before. I wished I was somewhere else – anywhere else.

Nicky walked around the car and opened the backset passenger door where I was belted in. He crouched down to a point where he was looking up to me. His eyes were full of sorrow and his mouth was curled downwards. Despite the uniform and the muscles, he seemed like the pathetic 18-year-old I left behind years ago. He tried to speak by didn’t make sounds. The anger that percolated inside me vanished.

“I would hug if I could,” I said.

“I’ll unlock you,” he said, leaning into the car before stopping right before my face. We gazed at each other for a few seconds.

“Just take me to where you want me,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”

He closed his eyes and gulped. “I’m so sorry, it’s not what I wanted…”

“Let’s get going,” I said. “I’m fine. It’s all copacetic.”

“I’ll take care of you, my friend,” he said, brushing the back of his hand across my face.

Nicky glumly closed the door and resumed his place in the driver’s seat. We continued in silence until he took an exit and headed down a lonely desert road.

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NOTE: Hunter Perez is author of The Friend Request, available on Amazon.