Like most of you, I'd seen plenty of people tied up in movies and comic strips during my early teens and pre-teen years. Seeing someone tied up in real life, however, was a completely different experience. One that I still remember vividly to this day, even though it happened three years ago, back when I was still fourteen years of age.
I was at my neighbour Sammy's place - just like I usually was on Saturdays and Sundays. We were shooting hoops in the yard and having a grand old time with a few of the other teens who lived across the street from us. By early afternoon the sky had grown thick with menacing grey clouds; the likes of which promised violent thunderstorms and a torrential downpour.
One minute it was dry as a bone, and the next a veritable deluge was coming down upon us. Myself and the other kids quickly parted ways; the lot of them scampering back to their respective houses while Sammy and I retreated to the comfort of his cosy suburban home. We walked in through the backyard patio door; our soaking wet t-shirts clinging to our thin bodies and our damp mops of hair rendered flat and utterly drenched with rain.
Sam's cheerful father - a stunningly handsome and very brawny bloke in his early forties - beamed us a wide smile as we pulled our soaked shoes, socks and shirts off.
"Always living on the edge, eh boys?" he teased, rubbing his son's dishevelled hair up and speaking of our casual unwillingness to heed mother nature's clear warning signs before it was too late.
The towering police officer bid us both to the washroom so we could get dried up, and Sam lent me a clean pair of jogging pants and a hoodie so that I didn't have to run home and brave the deluge just to put some dry clothes on.
Officer Bob - that's his name - did his own thing, much like he usually did while I was hanging around and enjoying his youngest son's company. Being a single dad meant that he had quite a bit of stuff to get done around the house when he was off duty, but that didn't stop him from plopping down on the living room couch whenever his favourite sport was animating the 65-inch TV screen...nor did it stop him from casually stinking the place up by airing his stupendously massive soles out whenever he saw fit to do so.
Sam and I spent much of the afternoon watching stuff on YouTube and gaming on the PS5 console he had in his bedroom. Neither of us felt particularly alarmed when officer Bob barged in through the gaping doorway, dressed in full leather gear and looking a tad bit worried and seemingly a little pressed for time.
"I have to head out. Just got a call from the station. Looks like Shane's in trouble again..." he grumbled, seeming both irked and discouraged by his eldest son's loathsome behaviour and general unruliness.
"You boys stay put. I'm gonna get this sorted out and I'll be back in an hour." he told us, before quickly heading towards the front door; the thudding of his giant boots and the creaking of his heavily distressed leather jacket and gloves marking his every footstep.
Aside from the fact that he was a couple of years older than us and that he was pretty much a bum, I didn't know much about Sammy's older brother Shane. He wasn't often home when I came over to hang out, but when he was, he was usually in his room, smoking joints or drinking booze with those seriously shady friends of his.
The news that he was yet again in trouble with the law and being detained at the local police station was hardly a surprise to me given his less-than-ideal track record.
The better part of an hour went by, but it's only when officer Bob marched back in through the front doorway, escorting not one but two handcuffed prisoners did Sammy and I lower the PS5 volume and look at each other with telltale expressions of wide-eyed shock.
Aside from the sound of creaking leather and random shuffling about, the place fell real quiet after that. Even from the relative privacy of Sammy's bedroom, I could tell that his dad was in an understandably gloomy mood and that the general atmosphere was quite tense and heavy. The aura of severity that reigned about the grim-faced police officer seemed all the more palpable due to the thudding of his booted soles and the noisy groaning of his leathery torso.
As it turns out, Shane, his cousin and three other guys - most of whom were nearing their eighteenth birthday - had been arrested for picking on another teen and apparently beating him up, hogtying him, stealing his phone, his AirPods and his brand new sneakers before finally gagging him and leaving him in a back alley with one of their crummy old shoes taped to his bruised and tapegagged face. A reprehensible act of vileness and cowardice if ever there was one.
Fortunately for the victim, all of it had been caught on a nearby corner store's rear-facing security camera; allowing the perps to be caught, arrested and eventually released to their custodians pending a juvenile court date. One that would no doubt see them imposed with hefty curfews and some sort of tedious community service.
In any case, Officer Bob didn't raise his voice or speak up at all. Even as he marched his nephew and good-for-nothing son across the house and over to his bedroom; his bearded face remained a model of implacable sobriety and control.
Another look of surprise temporarily dawned across my boyish features as my eyes caught of glimpse of the comparatively lanky teens he was forcefully escorting. More precisely, my face grew surprised as I caught sight of their restrained wrists; both of which were not only clad in steel handcuffs but also secured in fiendishly massive police-grade zipties.
The troublesome pair was swiftly led into the bedroom, the door was sealed shut behind them, and several minutes of what sounded like talking, arguing and rebuking ensued...after which Bob silently stormed over towards the dining room and marched back into his own bedroom; this time carrying two sturdy-looking chairs in his thick, leather-clad arms.
"Sit!" came the sound of his very stern and uber-commanding voice.
The burly police-dad's leathery frame reemerged out of the bedroom a short while later. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, almost as if trying to decide what to do with the two mischief-makers now being held in his custody. The symphony of angry leather continued peppering the silence as his tremendously buff body slowly paced about; his muscular legs eventually leading him over to the main entryway where he lost no time in taking his heavy jacket and colossal boots off.
Sam and I continued playing video games, but we kept the volume at a minimum and refrained from making too much noise or laughing as loudly as we normally would have.
It's only when the hairy-chested muscleman reappeared by the doorway, wearing nothing but his tactical police trousers and tight-fitting patrol gloves that my friend and I paused our game and turned our heads to eye his slow approach.
We watched rather expectantly as the undeniably mighty officer silently walked in and took position behind us; sitting his heavy frame down on the bed his son and I were sitting up against.
"Pfffff...what a day." the sweaty muscle-dilf huffed, managing to flash us both a loving smile before affectionately planting his fiercely broad palms over our heads and allowing his thick leathery fingers to gently caress our hairy domes.
"I'm sorry you had to witness that." he apologised, immediately causing me to brush off his needless apology and assure him that I wasn't distraught.
"I'm grounding your brother for the next six months and I'm gonna see to it that Caleb is also dealt some sort of fitting punishment." Bob calmly explained, pressing his fingers into my scalp but speaking directly to his youngest son. "Aunt Carol and uncle Frank are out of town for the weekend, so I'm afraid I'll be keeping your cousin around 'till they get back." he casually went on, the smell of his harrowingly strong-scented bare soles suddenly wafting up into my nostrils.
Bob expertly cheered us up by declaring that night a "movie night" and telling us he'd order pizza for supper. Much to the fatherly cop's immediate satisfaction, Sam and I predictably agreed and greeted the offer with gleeful eyes and appreciative smiles.
"Alright, I gotta go take care of Shane and Caleb now. " the man calmly announced. "You two enjoy yourselves. There's some soda in the fridge if you boys want some."
As soon as the sweaty muscle hunk left the room, my friend and I upped the video game volume and spent the next half-hour or so giggling and gaming as we normally did. Aside from the noise coming from Sam's bedroom, the rest of the house was marked with an almost eery silence.
Tempted to investigate what was going on in the Master bedroom, I told my friend I was going to pour us each a glass of soda and then quickly scampered over towards the kitchen. Being a curious guy by nature, I was initially disappointed to find officer Bob's bedroom door shut. But just as my luck would have it, the barechested dilf eventually emerged from the going-ons of his secluded bedroom and quickly marched down the stairs leading to the dusty workshop.
No sooner had I filled my glass - and Sammy's - with icecubes that the familiar sound of approaching footsteps met my ears; the heavily built muscle-cop relieving himself of an unceremoniously thunderous fart as he dutifully jogged back up the wooden stairway, this time with a freakishly fat roll of heavy-duty duct tape in hand.
I did have at least some sort of idea as to what might be going on in the bedroom his nephew and eldest son were being held in, but I was admittedly quite baffled when the intimidating man-of-the-house once again stepped out into the common living area and made straight for the front entryway.
I watched with unbridled interest as he squatted down to gaze at his recently discarded police boots, and then felt my own brow rise up in unadulterated puzzlement as he reached down into the gaping maw of his right boot and used his lustrous leather-clad fingers to pull out a menacingly foul-looking tube sock from out of its frighteningly cavernous depths.
He gave the dreadfully pungent-looking thing a tentative whiff before quickly crinkling his nose up and swiftly pulling his face away. Officer Bob balled the offensive fabric up and repeated the same process with his other sock; giving that one a quick whiff and temporarily contorting his face into a grimace before finally balling that one up as well.
At the time, I had not the slightest idea as to what he planned on doing with those rotten-smelling wads of his. But whatever it was he had in mind for them, they were apparently deemed as being up to the task.
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