Officer Swift – Part 5

By straitjacketkwf2

“Jim, wake up,” I head David’s voice in the distance. Louder, “Come on, it’s time to get up.” I opened my eyes to a bright sunny morning with the light streaming through the basement window.

I was back in my house. I started to sit up but couldn’t. The straps across my body held me down on the vinyl mattress. I was in my Posey straitjacket, and Dave, my partner for six months now, was unlocking the cell door. He brought a water bottle with straw to my lips, and I drank the refreshing cold water.

Dave was dressed in tight 501s and a tee shirt. He said, “Don’t drink too fast now.”

He looked at me and I looked at him. With a knowing expression he said, “You had the dream again.”

“Yes,” I said between sips of water. “And you had a starring role.”

“I’ll bet,” he said sarcastically as he started to unstrap the canvas belts that went across my chest and legs. He unlocked the ankle cuffs attached to a belt that went under the cot and helped me stand.

“You were with me this time,” I stated quietly. “And you looked good in a straitjacket.”

“Let’s not go there,” Dave sternly warned me. “I do the strapping, you do the wearing.”

“OK, OK!” I exclaimed, then lowering my voice, “I need to piss.”

“Thought you might,” he said as he guided me to the steel toilet in the cell we had constructed not two months ago. “But you’re not getting out of that jacket just yet,” as he released the crotch strap and pulled down my white hospital pants. After putting on latex gloves he held my dick as I released a strong stream. Just as he had done many times before, Dave cleaned me, pulled up my pants and secured the strap between my legs again.

He guided me back to the bunk and had me sit down at one end and he at the other. “You have been here two days now, and I heard you talking in your sleep during the night. Tell me about the dream,” he demanded, “and I’ll make notes.”

I told him about being taken to jail, taken before a judge, about Dr. Clarke’s involvement in having me committed (our physician), the jail deputy (Davis was a fellow officer who completed his police training while working at the ADC), Nurse Reynolds (a real nurse who just moved into the house across the street), Dr. Erickson (Dave and I had to laugh at that one, I had just purchased a Sony-Eriksson cell phone), George the orderly (our personal trainer at the gym), Kevin Ryan (my cousin who is a psychologist), Mitch and Boris (poker buddies), and Nelson and Johnson (friends from Dave’s college classes who I met when they came to the house to study for a final exam).

“Well,” Dave said as he stood up, “you certainly have a vivid imagination. I have a treasure trove of new things to try on you.”

“Don’t forget, you were in there with me,” I said with a smirk on my face.”

“Not likely,” he said as he unlocked the cell door, stepped out and quickly closed it. “You have a few hours left before your time is up. I’ll get you something to eat and be back down.”

With that Dave went up the stairs to the kitchen and left me alone in the jail cell. I met Dave at the police academy where I was an instructor. Dave was a college student studying criminology who had been accepted as a new police officer before graduation, based on the recommendation of his professors. Dave proved to be an aggressive student who learned quickly and became expert in handcuffing. He surprised me in class the first day by having me on the mats and cuffed before I knew what happened. He pulled me off the mat, my hands still cuffed behind my back, pushed me against the wall and started to frisk me. He found the “gun” in my pocket and smiled at me. Then he uncuffed me, and I had him on the ground just as quickly. He stayed cuffed for the rest of the class. After the others were dismissed, I had him come to my office.

I praised him on his technique and asked if he would like to assist me with the next group of cadets. He smiled broadly, “I would enjoy working with you, Sir.” I removed the cuffs and we talked for the rest of the afternoon, slowly getting to the fact that we both enjoyed getting tied up and restraining others. I invited Dave to my home that evening, and we clicked.

After he graduated, I had Dave assigned as my partner, part-time teaching in the academy and part-time on the streets. Within a month he moved into my house.

It was Dave who had the idea of converting part of the basement into a serious play area. We put in a jail cell and a padded cell, which was a closet lined with green vinyl prison mattresses. Using mail order mostly, we started to accumulate various restraints. Over a short period of time Dave, discovered that he preferred to be the top, but on rare occasions he will let me get the better of him.

Dave also learned investigative hypnosis in school (he plans on being a detective in the future) and practiced on his friends — and on me. From what he says I am an excellent subject, and I do not recall what happens while under unless I am instructed to remember certain events. This weekend he dressed me as a mental hospital patient in the disturbed ward, strapped me in the straitjacket and put me in a trance. Through suggestion had me create the story I have told you. Over the past days he let me experience a number of treatments, so that they could become part of the story.

This is only the second time that we have experimented like this. But it has given us several scenes to enact.

After Dave fed me dinner in the cell, he left me confined while he cleaned up. He finally released me, and we went directly to the bedroom. I leave to your imagination the evening and night we had.

The End

Metal would like to thank straitjacketkwf2 for this story!

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