The Phone Call

“You fuckin’ owe me big time buddy”. So began the most horny night of my life, with a phone call from a friend on mine who happens to be a copper, sorry, Police Officer.
Let’s start at the beginning. We’ve all had cissie little cyber queens getting their rocks off on endless promises of a meet, only to be fobbed off with what, in this case, was a string of increasingly creative excuses. The final one was “my Dad’s had a car crash. He’s in intensive care. He’s on life support. He could die!” Two lines too many, the only thing he left out was ‘and he’s been abducted by aliens’.

But, the object of this endless stream of nonsense was a potential find. Eighteen years old, 5’2”, slim build. Naturally I wondered if the real stats were 72, 5’ 11”, and 18 stone, but it turned out that his stats were the one thing he didn’t lie about. Back to my Cop mate, though I should explain how this story unfolds. I see and hear stories in pictures and dialogue, so indulge me, most of this will read like a movie script. And like all scripts, you have to be able to ‘see’ the characters as written. So, here’s our cast:

Officer Kevin, 6’ 4”, black hair, blue eyes, 39 years old, black goatee, built.
Me: let’s just call me ‘Jon’, 34, 5’11”, clean shaven, dark brown hair, brown eyes, average build.
Timmy, the cyber wanker from the first paragraph, 18, 5’2”- well you know the rest.

Back to the phone call:

Jon: Kev! Hi mate, what do I owe you for?
Kev: That little cyber twat you’ve been going on about for months? Got his workplace, his mobile and his schedule.
Jon: What? How the fuck –
KEVIN INTERRUPTS:
Kev: You know better than to ask me that, we have ways fella! Point is, what are we going to do with this information? Any ideas randy fucker?
Jon: Er, some. What do you mean you know where he works?
Kev: you know that hotel in the middle of the woods up by Leeds/Bradford Airport? Well he works in the bar there Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. He is fucking cute buddy! And get this, he finishes at 1 a.m., and they get him a taxi home. Which got me thinking. He’s never seen your face right?
Jon: Not so he’d recognise me, it’s that pic of me with your bike cop helmet on.
Kev: Good, so maybe his taxi gets cancelled, unbeknown to him, and you turn up instead, with me in the back seat under a blanket.
Jon: Are you nuts!! We could get done!!!
Kev: Really? Think about it, you still got all his emails spelling out in minute detail the kidnap scene he’d kill for?
Jon: er, yeah.
Kev: Good, then he’s fucked, in more ways than one. I am gonna indulge some of my darker fantasies with this little fuckker, he’s not gonna know what hit him!

We worked this out with a full dress rehearsal, the last thing I wanted was a witness, but as Kev kept saying, the little twat had it coming. Waiting outside the hotel in the car park on a bitter, cold Friday night in November, out comes cute boy and into a taxi at 1 a.m. sharp. Kev quickly noted the number of the taxi firm, and told me to wait for a few minutes to see who else might be coming off duty. Fifteen minutes went by, and nothing, not even a stray guest.

Saturday night was even colder, our breath hung in the air, our cigarette smoke clung around us. A couple of planes went overhead, loud and low. Kev did something with his mobile, and then announced:
Kev: Action time, they’ve just called his cab.
Jon: How the fuck do you know that?
Kev: Fuck off Jon,
HE DIALLED ANOTHER NUMBER
Kev: Hi, we’ve just ordered a taxi for Timothy Ward? Yeah, can I cancel, his Dad’s picking him up, cheers mate.
Got the little fucker.

Not that I wanted to give the game away, but I couldn’t resist wearing my new Langlitz jacket, sure to get a reaction from the kid, but I wore denim jeans to be less obvious, the full Tom of Finland look would come later. Kev was in total leather, but as planned, had planted himself under a blanket in the rear of the ‘cab’.

At five past one, out comes cute boy. He looks around, I drive up to him.
Jon: Timothy Ward?
Timmy: Yeah?
Jon: Ardson cabs are busy, they have a two hour wait, subcontracted to me mate.
He starts to get in the back – bad idea.
Jon: Er, I’d sit in the front kiddo, last passenger threw up back there.
He gets in, I make a big deal of putting on my black leather Damascus gloves, Timmy starts to notice the gloves, the langlitz. No cab driver would smoke without asking the passengers permission, but I do anyway. I pull away, he mutters something about an address in Pudsey. I take a wrong turn, heading down the Chevin into Otley. Smart boy asks why we are going that way, I tell him there’s been an accident on the airport road. Meanwhile, Kev under the blanket, is pouring poppers onto a rag.
Timmy:: Can you smell something mate?
Jon: probably bleach I put on the carpet to get rid of the smell of sick.
Kevin must have used a whole fuckin bottle on that rag, it was getting to me as well as the kid.
Timmy : you sure it’s bleach?
Jon: Well, could be a kidnapper with amyl nitrate under the blanket getting ready to drug you up!!
Timmy : What? A joke right?
Kevin sprang out from the blanket as I swerved off the road up a dirt track, he released the kids seat back, held his arms and forced the rag over the boys mouth and nose with his black leather gloved hands.
Kev: keep still you little fucker and breath deep.
Timmy struggled for all he was worth, legs kicking the dashboard, the amyl didn’t seem to be having any effect.
Kev: Fuck this
And he lands a well aimed punch right to the kids head, knocking him out cold .
Kev: that’s better! Right, keep driving.
Officer Kevin cuffed the kid, and gaffer taped his mouth after stuffing a stinking sock in it.
Kev: Sorry about the smell, this is one I’ve been wearing under my bike boots for a month , might as well start as we mean to go on.

We pulled up to Kevin’s place, isolated, quiet, no chance of interruptions.
Dragging Timmy’s body into the playroom, we stripped him off, and got him strapped down. He started to come around. He was well tied, and gagged. We went off to get into full leather gear. Sounds of struggling and pathetic cries through a sock stuffed mouth followed us out of the dungeon.

Jon: So, you gonna tell me how you got all that info?
Kev: not if my life depended on it, let’s just say we might have to share the little twat.
Jon: WHAT?!?!?!
Kev: Information has a price my friend, so do favours, a couple of my colleagues want in.
Jon: KEV!!! What the fuck?
Kev: relax, don’t be such a drama queen. My C.O. wants in, good stuff, less chance of any charges with an alibi from him, and one of our elite biker officers, sadistic fucker, like you and me!
Jon: You fuckin scare me, remind me not to get on your bad side.
Kev: You already did, remember how we met?

This is where a movie would go into reams of ‘plot exposition’ – where characters talk about things they already know about so you, the viewer, know what the fuck is going on. To speed things up I’ll tell you how I got on this big bastards bad side. He stopped me for speeding, cocky as hell and loving his bike leathers, and full of attitude. I gave him some lip, he grabbed me by the throat and said:
“Want to start over, ‘cos if I lose it right now, you could end up in hospital”
losening his grip slightly he continued:
“And that would be such a shame when there are other things I could think of doing with a cute guy like you”
Time lapse: six hours later, I was making him a coffee and rubbing my sore arse, but he had another surprise, the bastard still gave me a ticket! We’ve been best mates ever since!

Back to cute little Timmy, all strapped down and choking on month old sweaty sock.
Kev: How you doing you cute little fucker?
Grunts.
Jon: Time to fess up kiddo. We’ve been chatting on line for months, how’s your critically ill Dad, still on life support?
Even through the gag we could hear:
“Oh fuck” and a resigned sigh
Kev: Didn’t think you’d get away with stringing my mate along without paying the consequences did you kid? Time for you to get everything you asked for in your emails, we know how much you want this, your dream is about to come true.
Kevin punched the kid hard in the guts, and changed his voice to a deep threatening snarl
Kev: or maybe it’s your worst fuckin nightmare cunt boy.

The Officer grabbed the boy’s balls, and squeezed hard, it got a reaction.
Jon: that’s the one thing he’s not into. Go easy on the balls
Officer Kev looked at the boy with the most sadistic grin I’d ever seen.
Kev: I don’t think so
He squeezed harder.
Kev: Give me ten minutes alone with him. Go watch out for a patrol car, my C.O. should be off duty by now, he’ll be arriving any minute.
Sounds of screaming filled the empty house, even through the heavy steel door of the play room. It was to go on all night, but that story is for the sequel –
“The Phone Call – part two” Subtitle: “Timmy’s night of hell”.

What the fuck, you can at least ‘watch’ the trailer:
Officer Kevin’s big, black leather gloved hand sealed the cute kids mouth and nose, Timmy struggled for air, he was suffocating as the 6’4” officer held him down and split the kids legs open, nine inches of rock hard cop meat was clearly visible beneath the officers leather bike jeans.
Kev: Ready for this you little fucker?
Through a heavily leather gagged mouth the boy was able to mumble:
“Please, no, please don’t fuck me”
Kevin just grinned sadistically,
“DON’T fuck you? Kid I am gonna fuck you so hard so won’t be able to fucking walk!”
He slowly unzipped his leather jeans, cut to the boys suffocating face, terrified.
Fade out. Caption: “Cumming soon, to a dungeon near you”