An excerpt from a collection of short stories by ty dehner

SWITCHBACK is a new collection of short stories by ty dehner. Featuring two new stories that have never appeared in print, this group of stories includes men in uniform, friendship and more. Several of these tales have plots where there is a switch in the position of those involved. These gay men explore bondage, power exchange and hot gear!

By ty dehner

The cloudless blue sky filled the horizon as the pine air was broken by the continuous whine of a high-performance Suzuki motorcycle. The rider in red and white one-piece riding leathers was enjoying the twisting road with the skinny pine trees reflecting off the face shield part of his black full-face helmet.

Dan was far from home, needing to escape the pressures of his job for the weekend. After exiting the office building when his shift was over, the banker raced home in his sports car. After parking his Corvette in the garage and climbing out, Dan saw his Suzuki. It was calling him to climb aboard and just get out of town.

In minutes, Dan changed out of his suit and tie, entering the garage in his leathers, and carrying his helmet in gloved hands. As the garage door rolled open, a cool breeze rushed in as the orange glow of dusk filled the sky with high clouds reaching up from the horizon. Mounting the powerful bike, Dan raced the bike out onto his neighborhood street as the garage closed, and silence returned as the bike moved out of sight.

Ending up in Sacramento, California, long after the sun had set, Dan crashed at a Marriott, sleeping in his leathers as he had brought no other change of clothing. His desire to escape didn’t allow packing anything. Dan figured he could purchase anything he needed so he could ride lightly.

Waking with the sun, Dan headed to the local coffee shop to get some much-needed caffeine in him before continuing his ride north.

Now he was nearing Mount Shasta in Northern California in the afternoon. The day was warming, but Dan was just into the leans into the curves that bring the joy of owning a racing-style bike with great suspension.

Coming down out of the hills, there was a vast golden valley at Shasta’s western base, where the road was a series of long straightaways. As Dan pumped up the speed a bit, his mind wandered.

 

I always knew that I couldn’t stay long. I’ve never been able to just stay in one place long. But trying new things is part of what makes life exciting, like the feeling here between my legs. The power turns the rubber as it burns across this hot asphalt. 

I wear the leathers cause they protect, but also cause I’m hard as a rock in them. Fucking been kinky since I was a punk riding motocross in the Riverside wasteland behind my school. Damn, if I didn’t get a woody just looking at those heavy MX boots covered with dust. I collected the race mags for the pics of the bikers in their race leathers, not cause I cared who was winning or losing on the race circuit.

The first guy who showed me what fucking in a pair of boots was like was a closeted surf dude from Huntington Beach. He liked to be roughed up after I tied his hands. Damn, if I didn’t like controlling him. I was teaching him and showing him who was boss. 

All that time, being some hot top, so why did I think I could be different. That night when I walked into that bar outside of Weed, something changed inside me.

 

Weed is a tiny little town, just a dot on Google maps. On the corner of Main Street was a brick building containing The Shasta Inn, a tavern now a landmark house of spirits in the town. It was hot, and the day of riding had been long. Dan parked his bike just outside, turning it off. As he moved to the entry of the tavern, with his helmet still on, he noticed a California Highway Patrol Ford Interceptor SUV parked a few stalls down. Grabbing the door handle, Dan thought there could be trouble inside, or the CHP was off duty. Either way, he would be interested in seeing this man of the law in his tan uniform and boots.

Dan enters the bar as the bright light from outside frames his silhouette as he enters the lower light of the tavern. Dan removes his helmet to see better, scanning the inside as the door glides shut behind him. A few Hispanic men are playing pool, wearing jeans and boots, with sports caps on their heads. The music is playing in the background, tunes from the local country western station, as the few other patrons in the bar are enjoying their brews.

Dan takes off his gloves, stuffing them in his helmet.

 

The place was pretty empty; hell, it was a Sunday night. Not much to look at either. A trucker and a cowboy, big shit, done them types so many times it was like I was in San Francisco or something. But at the bar, there was something I hadn’t done…well, not sexually.

 

Dan spots the CHP sergeant at the bar, his first name Garth. The sergeant certainly is not on duty as he downs a chilled mug of dark golden beer. With a high and tight goatee, this CHP officer is a solid man with a regular workout routine that he must do in the gym or his home facility.

Dan approaches the bar and sets his helmet on the fine mahogany next to his gloves. As he motions for the bartender, Dan checks out the cop next to him, but not too much.

In turn, Garth checks out the biker in a sly manner, the bartender bringing the biker a beer in a bottle. Garth speaks gently as Dan takes his first drink, “Hope you cleaned the dead bugs off your leathers before you came in here.”

Finishing his first sip, Dan fires back, “Figured I’d find a tongue or two in here that might want to do the job.”

“The only thing tongues clean in here are my boots.”, notes Garth as he swallows more of his beer.

That last comment intrigues Dan as he spins slightly on the stool, looking down at the Under Armor lace-up black cop boots that the officer in tan wears. “Damn nice boots they are.”

Dan takes a swig of his beer, continuing, “They are big…overcompensation?”

Garth nods his head with a smirk, liking the flip attitude of the leathered biker. “Seems all guys do that. Some with boots, others with the horsepower between their legs.”

Dan pivots back to his original position, drinking from his beer as he keeps an eye on the mirror that the patrons sitting at the bar see on the wall with all the liquor bottles lined up.

There was a tension building between these two masculine men. Both are guys who like to be in charge, but each thought of the other as someone they would like to conquer and control. But for now, they were taking it slow. The macho men are cruising, plotting, and awaiting their time to make their move.

Finishing his first beer, Dan motions to the bartender for another beer, then asks the cop, “What sort of action does this Podunk town have at night?”

Looking into the mirror at Dan, Garth responds, “The best action is what I say it is.”

Dan nods his head and smiles. The bartender sits another bottle of beer before the biker and steps away. Lifting the beer to his slips, Dan takes in a mouthful of the ale, turns, and lets the beer run out of his lips onto the leather of the cop’s boot. Not exactly innocently, Dan inquires, “Damn, where you gonna find a tongue to take care of that?

Looking down at the beer laying upon the black leather of his boot, the sergeant responds, “Not sure.” Garth then lifts his head to look at the biker sitting next to him. “But I bet an asshole rice burning rider in tight leathers in a Harley bar will learn really fast if he don’t get his shit covered tongue on my boots, now!”

Dan squarely looks into the brown eyes of the cop, “Ain’t gonna happen. This tongue never touches leather.”

With a moment of each staring the other down to see who will be the one to take charge of the other, they turn to face each other—the two playing billiards pause, feeling the tension, looking towards the bar.

Suddenly, Garth reaches out, grabbing Dan by the back of his neck and forcing him off his stool, guiding his face directly to his beer-soaked boot. “Well this will be a treat after the asses you’ve cleaned.”

The biker struggles to release himself, but the cop’s grip is too tight as Dan’s face remains an inch from the beer on the leather. Dan struggles to keep his lips from tasting the leather, moving his head back and forth, working hard to push against the cop’s force.

As the cops up on his effort to get his boot cleaned by the biker, he notes, “I suggest you get started, cause this bar closes in a few hours and you better be done.”

To help facilitate the boot licking, Garth lifts his boot into the biker’s face, which forces his boot onto Dan’s lips. Dan gets his first taste of leather and beer, making him close his eyes, not appreciating the humiliation. Slowly, realizing he has no choice, Dan’s tongue comes out; cautiously, he begins to lick the beer off the CHP sergeant’s boot.

 

The minute I tasted that beer-soaked leather, something came over me. I wanted to submit to this uniformed rock. I knew I could take him, but I didn’t want to.

 

The cop decides to stand and stretch. Dan starts to push himself away from the boot, but Garth lifts his dry boot, tapping the biker on the head, “Stay down there, but follow me, fucker.”

Stepping away from the bar, the cop makes his way across the tavern as Dan follows, crawling across the sticky, dirty bar floor. The guys playing pool table watch as the leathered biker follows the sergeant like his trusty police dog. The players smile at the sight, but Dan doesn’t dare look up as he can’t bear to see others watching him being humiliated.

Garth enters a side room off the main bar area as the music fades some, the heavy bass remaining. The room is darker as the cop turns to face the biker on all fours before him. “Stand up!” orders the cop.

As Dan starts to stand, the cop continues, “You can finish my boots later, you’ll have lots of time.”

As the biker stands at full attention, he gazes right into the cop’s eyes. “You arresting me?”

Garth grabs the biker, drawing him closer, planting his lips on the leathered biker’s beer-soaked lips. They kiss passionately, though Dan holds back a bit before giving in to his lust.

They paw and claw each other as they continue to kiss. Their animal instincts are further released as they start on each other’s neck, with Garth biting into the leather of the biker suit. The biker lifts his head to gain air as he is overheating with the passion each is releasing into the situation. Quickly, catching his breath with the warm scent of leather filling his nostrils, Dan reaches down, grabbing the firm, fleshy ass of this motor cop, squeezing tightly as he humps the cop.

With him being in Dan’s clutches, Garth works the front zipper of the one-piece riding leathers, reaching inside and twisting the biker’s taut tits. This control by the cop only makes Dan shutter as his mouth is wide open, his eyes closed, and he can feel his manhood leaking into the suit’s lining that he has had on for two days.

This only makes the cop horny as he squeezes tightly on the leathered biker’s nipple, Dan closing his lips to moan, lowering his head to collapse on Garth’s broad shoulders.

Keeping this biker in ecstasy, Garth lowers his right hand while keeping his lips on his savory lips of Dan. Without the biker realizing it, Garth reaches for his handcuffs, which he works out of the leather holder on his duty belt. As the cop positions the cuffs, the ratcheting sound can be heard, but Dan pays no attention as he wants to shoot his load into the confines of his leathers.

Gently guiding Dan’s wrists behind his back, Garth smiles a bit as he lets go of the biker’s tit, Dan moaning loudly from deep within. As the biker is moaning, trying to gain his senses again, the cop pounces and cuffs Dan’s leather-clad arms behind his back in a flash.

Dan is not surprised by the cuffs as he is a kinky guy, though he usually does the cuffing in his play. Leaning himself slightly away from the solid body of the cop in uniform, Dan opens his eyes lazily, speaking breathily, “Oh, I like it rough, officer.”

That is all Garth needed to hear as he spins the biker on his booted feet, slamming him hard against the dark-painted wall. Garth has now gone into full cop control mode. “Good, cause you don’t have much choice.”

Garth grabs the speechless biker and hauls his ass out of the bar.

With the sun dropping below the horizon, the high clouds in the dusky sky streak high in warm colors of orange and pink. But Dan isn’t getting to take in the sunset as Garth pushes him out of the tavern and directly to his black and white Interceptor, guiding the biker with a tight grip on Dan’s neck, holding the cuffs that keep the biker’s hands securely behind his back.

As they reach the vehicle, the cop slams the leathered biker’s body into the side of his unit, knocking the air out of Dan. Dan is expecting to go into the back passenger seat behind, but the back hatch door starts rising. Once it reaches its peak, opening. The cop grips the biker’s neck tightly, pushing him to the back of the police unit.

Seeing that he is about to be shoved into the back of the vehicle and not into the usual seat, Dan freezes his body, “What the fuck, I’m not going in there.”

Pulling on Dan’s secured wrists and lifting them to cause pain in the biker’s shoulders, Dan screams in pain as the cop explains, “You’re going where I want you fucker.”

With that, Dan is pushed into the back deck of the SUV, face first, with his back facing the outside. With some effort, the cop maneuvers the biker into a position with his entire body lying on the vinyl-covered deck. Reaching into one of the compartments in his police cruiser, Garth grabs some straps that he quickly uses, strapping the biker’s boots together at the ankle, then taking another strap connecting it to the cuffs and the ankle restraints. Dan is now in a tight hogtie, struggling while yelling obscenities to get someone to help him.

Now that the biker has no chance of escaping, the cop doesn’t want to listen to this fucker yell on their ride out to Garth’s house. Finding a roll of black utility tape, Garth digs in his athletic bag, pulling out a dirty white Adidas sock, stuffing it deep into the biker’s lips, silencing him. The black tape is wrapped several times around the biker’s head to ensure it stays in. A few more rounds also blindfold the leather biker as he struggles to get released.

Tossing the tape into the SUV, Garth watches this idiot struggle in the bondage, with Garth just shaking his head at how futile the effort is. The cop grabs Dan on the shoulder firmly, “Hey shithead; you’re just going to tire yourself out! We got a ways to go, and I need you to be ready for what I’m going to put your through.”

With that statement from the cop, Dan starts struggling again. Lowering his head, Garth is disappointed, so he punches the biker in the back, which stops Dan from struggling.

“Just relax, you moron. This is going to happen, so just deal with it.”

Pressing the button, the tailgate lowers as the cop goes back into the Shasta Inn. Shortly, he exits with the biker’s helmet and gloves, tossing them into the backseat of the SUV, then climbs in, starting up the engine.

In no real hurry, the cop cruises south on the main street and into the rolling hills around the town.

After an hour’s ride from the small California town, Garth pulls his cruiser into a dirt road leading to his cabin in a grove of pine trees. The cop’s place sits a mile off the main road, nice and secluded. The cop built the place so that when he brought his sexual prisoners, they could be used without any interference from the public. When he is flogging a guy, he loves to hear them scream. The acreage surrounding Garth’s place makes sure no one will hear his captives.

Pulling up to the garage door, the cop puts his vehicle into park, turning off the engine. Pressing a button on the dashboard, the back hatch starts rising as Dan feels the cool air floating over him. The cop makes his way to his new prisoner, releasing the restraints that have kept him in a hogtie for the ride out of town. Moaning into the gag that remains taped in, Dan enjoys stretching his tight muscles.

“Don’t get too relaxed, fuckhead. We got lots to do tonight.”, snarls the CHP sergeant.

Garth drags the biker into his bedroom room. There is a pine log poster bed with discreetly hidden eye bolts that Garth uses to keep a captive secured when he has his way with them.

The cop rips the tape off the biker’s head with pain while pulling out the spit-soaked sock.

Quickly getting the biker to his knees, the cop leans down and turns Dan on by giving him a deep kiss with the cop’s beer tongue pushing as deep as possible.

While Dan is still cuffed, the cop grabs the biker’s head, releasing the kiss and shoves Dan’s face into the crotch of the cop’s uniform. Knowing what he is doing, Dan starts crewing on the tan uniform pants, taking in the scent of the heavy leather duty belt that the cop wears, just inches above Dan’s face. As he chews, he can feel the nightstick that is the cop’s manhood trapped behind the cloth.

The cop keeps his hands on the biker’s head, pushing it into his crotch to maintain control. Dropping his head back, Garth quickly pulls the biker’s face away from himself as he is so on the edge that he doesn’t want that ecstasy to happen. No, he wants it to last as long as possible. So the cop lifts the biker by his underarms, standing him up and then pushing Dan back onto the leather-covered king bed.

As Dan crashes down on the memory foam, the cuffs on his wrist cut into this skin, causing him to yelp with some discomfort.

Seeing the leathered biker on his bed, Garth just lets himself fall forward, landing on top of that leather, their lips meeting again. As their legs wrap around each other, Garth firmly grips the balls of the biker as they remain somewhat protected with the heavy leather. But there is a moaning coming from those lips, and the cop very much appreciates that the biker is feeling some pain while he remains in custody.

The two powerful men wrestle, though Garth has the upper hand as he is not restrained like the biker. Their boots sometimes catch the leather cover on the bed, wrinkling it as the cop grips under the open zipper on the biker’s chest, squeezing his tits tightly. This causes Dan to struggle more out of pain and want to get away from the pinching pain.

Suddenly, the heavy passion in the bedroom is cut by the cop’s cellphone ringing. Hoping the ringing phone can be ignored, Garth continues the oral rape of his captured biker’s lips. But after it rings five times, he knows it must be important, so he battles to remove the device from the front pocket on his snug tan uniform. After two more rings, the cop gets it out and to his ear, very pissed off.

“What the fuck is it?”

Dan pauses to listen in, hearing a male voice on the other end.

“Shit!” Garth yells, very upset that his fun is being interrupted. But he knows he is a cop and has to always be prepared for interruptions like this.

“Yea, yea, yea. I’ll be there. What?!” Garth rolls his eyes as there is always something with the officer he is speaking to. “Fuck no, don’t touch anything. Just wait, can you do that?!”

Garth listens for a response and then disconnects the call without further communication.

Tossing the phone on the bed beside him, Garth returns to fucking the biker’s lips with his tongue. He is truly enjoying what he found in the bar today. But duty calls, and that officer, in particular, will fuck shit up if he doesn’t get there. So, the cop pulls back, looking into the green eyes of the biker, “Duty calls.”

***

The darkness is broken as the light in the cop’s cellar is switched on. A loud thudding sound is heard as the cop roughly guides the biker down the stairs, with Dan’s hands cuffed before him. Garth shoves Dan forward once they reach the concrete floor, and Dan looks up to see a heavy iron cage in the corner. The cage is low as Garth opens the door and quickly puts the biker, wearing his piss-soaked leathers, into the enclosure.

It is a tight fit for Dan, as he struggles to find a way to sit down. As the biker works to get into a somewhat comfortable position, the cop slams the cage door shut, adding a large padlock. Turning to leave the cellar, Dan yells, but it is muffled by the piss-soaked gag wrapped tightly around his head.

As the sergeant steps on the first step of the stairway, he turns and looks at the biker now secured in his cage, “Can’t leave you lose while I’m gone. Let that piss and leather mix real nice. I’ll be back later.”

Climbing the stairs, Garth turns the light off as he gets to the top, shutting the door behind him. A red glow from a lone light bulb keeps the cellar from getting dark. Reaching up to the bars that go over his head, Dan struggles some in the cuffs and tightness of the bars that press against his leathers.

 

This submission shit wasn’t like I thought it would be. Fucking asshole pissing on me. I think the cop needs a nightstick up his ass, and he’ll know who’s boss.

 

Dan struggles a bit more but realizes that he will not be escaping. He adjusts his body some more to find something barrable to remain in the cage for as long as he will be. Once he does, he focuses on relaxing and soon doesn’t even know he has fallen asleep.

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