Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination, bondage, and s/m. If you don't enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you find this material offensive or morally objectionable, then do not read this story. This story is fantasy and I do not espouse or endorse unprotected anal sex!
Officer Greg Steele realized he'd walked into a trap. As his eyes adjusted to the light he could make out at least three other gang members with guns, two of which appeared to be MAC-10's, and one a generic-looking 9mm of some sketchy make, trained on him. Even in this bad light, he was close enough that he could pop the young thug lord BD, Big Daddy as he liked to style himself, with his service pistol, but he'd be thoroughly ventilated after he got his one shot.
"I repeat, put down the gun, pig," BD said from his makeshift throne. Overhead, half of the fluorescent factory ceiling lights went up, giving the room a ghostly sort of illumination. Inside the large factory floor was a large cage similar in size and shape to a batting cage, except that it was constructed of steel bars instead of chainlink. It seemed to have been a stockroom of some sort and seemed very old, maybe even dating to the 19th century. Whatever it had contained, it was now merely an empty cage.
Steele could now see that he was outnumbered five to one. BD's Praetorian Guard seemed to consist of two huge bodyguards, probably failed college football players, and two shorter, skinny guys, both about the same age as their young boss - nineteen, twenty... certainly no older than twenty-two. No doubt these two were his sharpshooters, although with weapons like theirs marksmanship was not really important. Steele laid his gun down and gave it a light kick over to one of the bodyguards, who handed it to BD.
"BD, what we gonna do?" one of BD's fellow thugs asked. "Now he knows about this place, we can't stay here. His buddy pigs gonna be lookin' for him soon."
"No, no one knows he's here. He's trackin' us on his own time. Ain't that right, pig?"
Steele didn't say anything but his silence betrayed him.
"See that two-day stubble? No beat cop in uniform would be caught dead lookin' like that. Especially not Steele, the toughest by-the-book beat cop on the force. He so desperate to bust me, he come out here against orders an' on his own. Ain't that right, Steele?"
Steele's glowering silence again betrayed him. BD had his number.
"Now your utility belt, Batman," BD commanded, smirking.
Steele removed his belt and slid it across the floor. BD picked up the belt and pretended to admire the handcuffs and nightstick. In a fake Southern female voice he drawled "Ooooh what a big stick you have, Officer. And what a big gun you have. And what's this bracelet for? Ha ha ha."
BD's goons smirked and chuckled stupidly.
"Anything else you care to share with me, punk?" BD asked.
Steele shook his head no but BD laughed. "Yeah, sure, sure we believe you, pig. Never been lied to by a pig before nosir. Hands on your head, bitch!" Steele did as he was commanded.
The thug prince who called himself "the Pimp King" stood up and sauntered down from his makeshift dais, until he was face to face with Steele. "No, I don't believe you one bit, pig bitch. I'm gonna have to shake you down. Make one move and you're a dead bitch, understand?" Steele nodded to indicate that he understood. Smiling, BD reached up with surprising speed, and, grabbing Steele's left ear, jerked the defenseless lawman around and then pushed him toward one of the brick walls. Steele knew the drill, but never from this side. He felt trapped and helpless, feelings he'd never felt before but that he'd inspired countless times in others.
"Up against the wall, Officer," the skinny young thug commanded. Every fiber of his manhood cried out for Steele to turn around and pummel this punk. The odds of him surviving were nil, however. Steele did as he was told, putting his arms out as BD shoved him toward the wall, where he compliantly leaned on his palms against the rough dirty brick. Kicking Steele's legs about the ankles, the self-titled Pimp King yelled, "Spread em!" Steele complied again, spreading his legs about two feet apart.
"I'm mighty sure you's packing somethin' 'sides this here little white boy's dick." He lifted Steele's service pistol and drew the Glock's barrel across Steele's lips. Handing it to one of his cronies, BD put both of his hands between Steele's broad shoulders and neck and squeezed tightly, then roughly began patting the cop down. He started with the arms, ruffling the thick hair on his forearms and squeezing the cop's large biceps as he made his way to the wet armpits, which he poked with a half-hearted tickle. Then he moved across the cop's broad shoulders and started down his muscular back. Steele held his breath as the gang boss's hands moved slowly down his back until they were patting his backside, a probing pat at first, but then it degenerated into what could only be described as spanking. As BD laughed out loud, Steele gritted his teeth and bore the butt-whipping as best he could, but BD's swats, even through his uniform and underwear, were more painful than he would have anticipated.
"I see why you name Steele, boy! You got buns of steel! Ouch, that's the hardest white ass I ever paddled. Next time I'll use yo' leather gun belt." B-D lifted his hands limply, as if he had broken them on Steele's firm butt cheeks, and his sycophantic cronies chuckled appreciatively. "Word on you sho' is da truth . You a hard ass, all right," B-D chuckled, then turned homicidally serious: "But we gonna fix that." He then started kneading Steele's perfectly rounded asscheeks, and ran his finger menacingly up and down Steele's asscrack, well-defined even through his uniform trousers.
BD squatted down and continued his shakedown by patting up and down Steele's legs, squeezing the muscular thighs and calves and being careful to thrust his arm up Steele's crotch at every opportunity, just to smash into Steele's lowhanger nuts. The pain almost made him retch, and if not for the wall to lean against, he probably would have collapsed on the floor in agony. But he was determined not to let this punk see him wince.
BD rose and started patting Steele's upper body down again, this time starting with the cop's chest. From behind he cupped Steele's chiseled rounded slabs of pectoral meat in his hands like they were a stripper's tits. "Well, boy, these tits are big enough for a b-cup bra, but you musta got 'em injected with aluminum not silicone when you was getting yo' implants." BD was playfully feminizing all of Steele's most masculine attributes. He squeezed and kneaded the muscular pecs until he found the soft flesh of the officer's nipples, which he pinched and twisted until the stoic cop finally broke down and groaned with the pain like a wounded bull.
"That's it, bitch! My little ho's a moanah!" BD snickered.
"You fucking faggot!" Steele grunted angrily at the pimp.
"Don't you talk to me like that bitch! I'll slap the shit out of you!" From behind him, BD smacked the cop's chiseled jaw. Then he shook his hand in mock pain. "Ouch! That hurt! You one hard fucker, you know that? I think I'm gonna stick with yo' soft parts!" And with that BD again grabbed Steele's nipples and twisted. Steele did his best to resist showing any pain but he finally grunted in agony, drawing hysterical laughter from BD's crew. With legs spread, his body-weight off balance leaning against the wall, and his arms occupied with holding himself up, he now understood why this position was used - the man being patted down (or, in this case, also felt up) was in a powerless position in relation to the examiner. Being the object of derision by a bunch of thugs only added to the feeling of powerlessness.
The laughter of his goons encouraged BD to be more brazen and he resumed patting down the helpless stud cop. He dropped from Steele's chest to his abdomen, feeling through the tight uniform shirt the cop's ripped abs. "Well, what you concealing here? A six pack? You old enough for that boy? You got ID? Heh heh heh." Again BD's simpering gang laughed at their boss's weak joke. Steele reflected that some of these boy-men, though all technically adults, might not be old enough to buy themselves liquor yet. Old enough to pimp and deal drugs and even kill but not to legally buy booze, what a fucked up world, he thought.
BD seemed transfixed by the cop's chiseled gut and spent several minutes massaging the beat cop's abs through his uniform, with occasional side trips back to the pec-slabs above and their tender nipples. With a stab of horror, Steele could feel BD's body close behind him, and the hardening mass growing in his tormentor's crotch rubbing up against his bubble butt. This kid wasn't just having a power trip; he was sexually excited too. Could it be that this notorious young gang leader was gay? That the neighborhood pimp king, as he styled himself, wasn't even interested in the women he was peddling? Or did some thugs just get sexually excited by dominating their victims? Or - worst of all - were these thugs so contemptuous of white men that they truly thought of them as not even men, but bitches? Even as he tried to figure out what was up with BD's arousal, the pimp boss's hands lowered to his crotch and began feeling the cop's cock and balls.
"Whoo-wee. Wait a minute boys! I was all set to let this punk go but now I think I've found something." BD had. One hand had cupped Steele's oversized balls; the other was tracing the outline of his flaccid cock through his too tight uniform. "Why it's long and thick and round like a gun barrel, and the handle is way big too! I didn't know they let white boys carry guns this big!" Ironically, Steele's cock was in fact shriveling up in disgust even as BD worked it to see what he could make of it. "Yes, indeed men, this boy is hiding a weapon inside his pants and I aim to see what it is! Strip search!"
The gang boss's goons cheered wildly. It occurred to BD that maybe they had watched a similar pageant unfold before.
In the uproar BD whispered in Steele's ear: "Do you want to take a guess how many times I been strip-searched, pig? Hell, I don't even know. But I sure remember the first time. Cop was a big macho bastard like you. Cowboy Bob he was called. Evil muthafucker. He like to pull off my dick and pop my balls gropin' me. By the time he finished with me I was laying on the ground crying and that bastard just walked away laughing."
BD raised his voice again. "And now, here I am strip searching a macho bastard cop just like him. I gonna make Cowboy Bob proud! Stand up and put your hands at your sides."
Steele pushed off from the wall and stood up, slowly lowering his arms to his sides. With two machine guns trained on him, he knew he had to move slowly.
"Now turn around very slowly, pig."
Steele did as he was told, careful to keep his hands at his sides at all times.
"Good little pig. Now be still if you know what's good for you."
Steele grunted his assent. But then BD reached for his badge, and something in Steele just snapped. He grabbed BD's hand in a firm grip, only to have the two Ingrams rapidly pressed against either side of his skull. He lowered his hands.
BD ripped the badge from Steel's shirt in disgust. "Bad little pig! I'm going to remember that!" He then reached forward and tore open Steel's button down uniform shirt, sending a button flying.
"Mmmm-mmmm-mmm. You been passin' on the doughnuts, pig. You one lean little muscle hog. If you didn't have such big muscles I'd almost call you skinny. And hairy! Shee-it. You look more like a bear than a pig."
Steele in fact worked very hard to keep his body as fit and trim as a fitness model's. At 6'1" and 180 pounds, he had an almost perfect male body. His pecs were lean, rounded, chiseled slabs of muscle, and they were covered with thick, straight fur. Unlike the hair on his head, which was greying, giving him a silver fox look, Steele's chest hair was still mostly a rich dark brown, thick and silky and covering his chest completely. BD could feel himself salivating, his cock swelling. A hairy muscle daddy cop was in his command! This was gonna be fun.
He roughly pulled the cop's shirt open wider, lifting it up and over Steele's rounded shoulders, fully exposing his torso. Then he started laughing.
"Oh fuck man, this ain't no pig or bear or silver fox even. This boy is a cow! Look at those udders!" BD was pointing at Steele's nipples and laughing.
Steele could feel himself burning with embarrassment. He didn't have the largest male nipples he'd ever seen - some guys at the gym had bigger ones, although they were usually on the bloated pecs of bodybuilders, all of whose parts (except the ones that matter) were overdeveloped, and lots of flabby guys had ones that looked like girl tits. But for a thin, muscular, otherwise normal guy, Steele's aureoles were exceptionally large, the size of elliptical half dollars, and the nipples were as large as pencil erasers.
BD grabbed the oversize mantits in between his thumbs and forefingers, but Steele, again acting on impulse, grabbed the pimp and drug dealer's paws in his own larger, hairy hands and pulled them away. Again the Ingrams moved in on Steele's temples and BD angrily slapped the cop on his darkly stubbled cheek.
"Muthafucka, I've had enough of yo' shit!" he cried. Grabbing Steele's uniform shirt by the collar, he whipped the cop around and yanked the shirt completely off and tossed it aside. "Find that button I popped off. Gonna have Shaylinda sew it up for me. Got plans for that uniform." Then he pushed the cop, stripped to the waist, up against the wall again, hard. Steele could feel the rough brick on his bruised cheek and against his chest and abdomen. He said nothing.
"Cuff him! I'm sick o' him interfering in my investigation!"
BD's boys slapped the cold steel bracelets on the half-naked cop. Then they yanked him around. He scowled as menacingly as he could at his young thug oppressors, but despite his macho hairy chest and muscular build, stripped of his gun and badge and uniform he was just another punkass white bitch to them. Only his hat, still on his head through all the manhandling, indicated that he had once been an authority figure, and now perched atop his half-naked body it seemed to mock him, since he looked more like a stripper at a bachelorette party than the baddest beat cop on the force.
"Now as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," BD said, smiling, "those are mighty big titties for a man. Maybe you a sex change? Let's check those nips out." He reached over and again grabbed Steele's nipples in his slender hands, but this time he held them more gently, not pinching them as he had before. "So, pig," BD continued, "Everyone knows only women and faggots have sensitive nipples. Yo's so big they look like a bitch's, or like you been stretching 'em with suction cups like faggots do. Which one are you, faggot or woman? Let's check it out..."
How do you know so much about what 'faggots' do, thug? Steele asked himself, but for once he resisted the urge. He was in no position to be taunting anyone.
BD softly pulled and squeezed and massaged the oversize aureoles. Steele's nipples hardened in response, and the cop could barely prevent himself from groaning with pleasure. He'd never had his tits played with before. He couldn't believe how good it felt. Ever since, as a young man, his nipples had suddenly grown larger at the same time his dick and balls had, he'd been ashamed of them. Maybe his obsession with working out and staying thin and fit had something to do with trying to diminish the way his nipples feminized his otherwise very masculine body. (Ironically, because of his lean, wiry build they just looked proportionately even larger on him, and their softness was dramatically at odds with the hardness and sharp angles of the rest of him.) At any rate, he had always tried to ignore them, and was glad his torso was so hairy that it could partially cover them. Only once or twice when he'd been titty-twisted when horsing around with his friends, or when he wore a rough fabric against his skin, had he ever felt the sensations they could arouse, and he had quickly ignored the intensely painful or pleasurable feelings caused by their being touched. Once a girlfriend, pretending, as he supposed, to admire them, had tried to play with them and he had overreacted angrily. He didn't like having his titties played with as if he was a woman and he yelled at her. That relationship had ended shortly thereafter, as all of his relationships had. After awhile, chicks just got possessive, or boring, or maternal. He was the kind of man who would have functioned best in a world where prostitution was legal, since what he mostly wanted from women was sex. How ironic then that his job for 10 years had been shutting down prostitution for the city's vice squad. That he was 36 and never married didn't bother him, although it bothered some of his family members. And he got teased about it by guys on the force (who, with the consistent locker room logic of guys everywhere, either accused him of being Hugh Hefner or gay, often at the same time). It wasn't that the right woman had never come along; he knew he just didn't like domestic life, which in the back of his mind he seemed to feel neuters or even feminizes men. He sure as hell liked fucking, though. And women liked fucking him. They just eventually gave up on his bad boy thing and went with the good boy who would be a suburban eunuch.
BD had stopped playing with his nipples and was running his hair through Steele's chest fur. "Why you white boys so hairy? You all's like apes. Look at this, boys!" BD's fingertips were lost in the long, thick, soft hair on Steele's ripped pecs. "Boy's like a fuckin' dog, man!"
"Maybe we best put a leash and collar on him and give him obedience lessons, boss," one of the goons named Rico said.
BD laughed. "Man, you is crazy hairy," he said looking Steele straight in the eye. Then BD tore open his own shirt, revealing his own skinny, smooth chest. "Don't seem right that a boy like you gots all this cowboy chest hair and a man like me don't got any." BD then grabbed a few hairs close to Steele's nipples and plucked them out violently. Steele cried out, his eyes involuntarily tearing up. "Ha ha, looks like our big macho cop is fixin to cry cause he's afraid I'm gonna pluck all his chest hair!"
The goon squad all chuckled again.
"Don't worry, boy," BD said. "I ain't got time to be pluckin' you like no chicken. I got bigger things to play with. Least I think they's bigger!" BD cupped his crotch in his right hand. "I'm not talking chicken, no sir. I'm talking eggs! Huevos! And some sausage too, I hope." The young thug unbuttoned the stud cop's trousers, then undid the zipper and pulled the pants down to his ankles.
The goons all started laughing at him again, but not for the reason he thought.
"Look at Officer Hardass - he still wears his tighty whities," one of them sneered.
BD laughed and responded, "All white boys wear them little boy underpants. They don't need as much room for their junk as black and Latino men do, cuz they so little."
Steele figured it was a cultural thing that he'd never heard of. Of course he wore jockey shorts - he'd worn 'em all his life. Didn't know they weren't considered manly until now.
"His legs're hairy as the rest of him," Rico said. "He's one hairy mother."
"Not as hairy as YOUR mother, Rico," one of the big goons said, and the others laughed.
"My mama's clit is probably bigger than this white boy's dick, too," he sneered.
"Well let's see then," said BD. "I can't look at these little boy undies any more. "I'm embarrassed for you, Officer Underpants." Steele ignored him, but he could feel his dick shriveling up at their taunts, and BD's apparent plan to strip him butt naked.
BD then did as expected, yanking the jockey shorts down to Steele's ankles and stepping back to take a look.
"Well, that can't be the weapon you's lookin for, BD," one of the big goons said. "That's a little toy pistol."
"A water pistol - don't let him spray you, BD," Rico added. More laughter all around.
Steele burned with humiliation. Stripped naked in front of a threatening gang of thugs, of course he shriveled up. Any man would.
"He gotta be three inches, tops."
"Hell, probably a half inch of that is foreskin. I thought white boys all got cut. He looks like you, Rico. Maybe he's a spic too!" one of the big guys added.
"He's too small to be Latino, boy," Rico laughed. "And he looks mighty fuckin' Anglo. But maybe he's a grower." Rico grabbed the cop's shriveled cock and yanked it painfully, twisting it in a threatening manner, but then he let up and slowly, masterfully started working the foreskin back and forth.
Steele was torn. On the one hand, he would have loved for these fuckers to see that when hard he was a man to be reckoned with. (At least for a white guy, he found himself adding.) On the other hand, what would it mean - and how much more would they taunt him - if he got hard by being jerked off by a man, or boy-man, as the case might be. (Rico, BD and the other shooter, may have been tough gangbangers in their twenties, but they still looked like little twinkie teens.) Despite the pleasurable sensation and the desire to show up these punks, Steele forced himself to think of a fat ugly whore named Sally he once busted. He always thought of her when he wanted to lose an inconvenient erection.
After a few minutes of the rough jerking Rico gave it, Steele's dick had only grown about two more inches. Rico let it drop in disgust. "Yeah, he's just a pinky-dick, like every other white boy." The crew laughed.
BD was smirking but not laughing. He actually looked kind of pleased with what he saw. "He sure got big balls, though. Gotta be honest, man. Those are some big fuckin pelotas!"
The others grunted in agreement. "The bigger they are, the easier I control him," BD said. "Remember that Rican rentboy who used to work for me? He had the biggest balls I ever seen. Maybe bigger than this pig's. Any time he fuck with me I brought him in, strip him down, work on those giant nuts, and ten minutes later he's sucking my toes. This cop gonna be the same. This gonna be fun!"
BD had all this time been moving closer to Steele, feeling up his hairy thighs and hairier calves. Now he was playing with Steele's ballsac, one ball in the palm of each hand. He slowly started to tighten his grip.
Steele tried to endure the pain but as soon as BD put the slightest amount of real pressure on his balls, the toughest beat cop on the force cried out like a punk. BD just laughed. "See what I mean?"
BD dropped Steele's sac, then batted it back and forth between his hands like a punching bag. The cop groaned, then howled, then finally sank to his knees, his forehead on the ground and his hairy muscular ass up in the air, as the thugs all howled too, but with mocking laughter.
"Well, we still ain't found that concealed weapon yet, boys. You know what that means?"
"Sure boss," the biggest thug (Steele thought he might be called RJ) said. "Body cavity search!"
"You right, Ajray!" BD said. He reached down and picked Steele's cop hat up from the ground where it had fallen, and put it on his own head. He then grabbed Steele by his short greying brown hair and pulled him to his feet, then dragged the cop, who, with his legs bound by his trousers and underpants, had to shuffle quickly to keep up, up against a heavy work table across the room. The thugs pushed him down hard on the table, so that his waist was pressed against the table's edge and his hairy bubble butt stood out behind him. They pulled his legs apart as far as his shorts and trousers (binding his ankles as effectively as the leather straps of a dominatrix) would allow. With his upper body pressed down against the thick wooden tabletop, he could only see out of the corner of his eye as BD fidgeted with something in his hands. Then he heard the snap of what he knew to be a latex glove, and watched as the young thug seemed to be squeezing lubricant from a tube onto it.
"Hell no, you ain't doing that!" Steele roared and bucked up, thrashing about. The two big guys quickly slammed him back down on the table. Then he felt a gloved, but not lubed, hand reach between his thighs and grab his ballsac. He braced himself for a gut-wrenching ballbust, but it never came. Instead BD just squeezed his balls lightly but threateningly. "We still ain't found the weapon we know you're concealing, boy. You interfering with my investigation. I don't wanna get into any po-lice bru-tal-i-tee here, but I am gonna have to do something to keep you still." The thug gripped Steele's sack right above his plump balls and squeezed like he was choking a chicken, then he pulled Steele's balls out behind him. Surprisingly, it didn't really hurt. His ball sac was long and elastic, and BD seemed to know how to handle a guy's balls without hurting them too badly (unless he wanted to). In other circumstances, this would have creeped Steele out, but all he could think of at this time was how grateful he was for BD to have whatever experience handling another man's junk he had. But then he realize maybe this wasn't necessarily the good thing he'd thought it was, as he could now feel his sack being pulled up between his buttcheeks. BD was using his own scrotum to part his asscrack! He relaxed his muscular cheeks as BD forced his balls in between his ass muscles, teasing his asshole with the tips of his balls. To his surprise, it felt pretty good.
But then BD grabbed his asscheeks and started mashing them together, his balls still stuck in place between them. "Now listen, officer, if I have to stop my investigation one more time, I'm going to stick your balls up your ass just like this and squeeze your buttcheeks until they pop and you REALLY will be a bitch. Unnerstan'?"
Steele nodded - too quickly, damnit! you let them get to you! he thought - and BD spread the asscheeks apart again and let the meaty balls drop from the tight hot grip of the cop's own butt muscles.
"Okay boy, yo' balls did a good job of getting you to spread yo' little manpussy. So keep it relaxed now, bitch, unless you want scrambled eggs." Steele complied. After the threat to his balls, an anal probe seemed mild. This was something he'd had done every time he got a physical, which on a force as large and under political scrutiny as his own meant every six months. Who knows? This thug might even be gentler than that asshole Dr. Lynn - hard to imagine he could be worse. Let the thugs abuse you and then they'll let you go, he thought to himself. Just like getting a physical.
At first, it seemed even better than any physical he'd ever had. BD ran a lubed forefinger around the rim of his asshole and again to Steele's surprise it felt good. Hell, after the abuse he'd been taking it felt REALLY good! Then BD slowly worked his finger into the lawman's tight hole and Steele unconsciously clenched. Smack! BD slapped his left asscheek and commanded the cop to relax. Steele complied, again so willingly he disgusted himself. But BD was being surprisingly gentle, slowly teasing his sphincter muscle and just inserting his fingertip into Steele's asshole an inch or so. Steele once or twice tried to jerk away, but at the same time he actually felt the urge to impale himself deeper on the thug's skinny finger. Steele was confused by these feelings, upset by them, so he put it all out of his mind and just did as the thug commanded. He relaxed and let it happen to him.
Slowly, gently, BD worked his finger in up to the second joint. At the same time, he was gently kneading Steele's balls and running his fingers along the sensitive ridge of skin that led between his legs from his scrotum to his asshole. Then Steele felt the finger slowly sliding all the way in to the knuckle, and BD found his prostate. Steele couldn't help himself. He moaned with pleasure, but at the last second turned it into a groan of pain. He didn't want these guys thinking he was enjoying this. It was humiliating to be homosexually abused, but it was far, far more humiliating to be made to enjoy it.
"What's the matter, bitch? You don't like my foreplay?" BD sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Well I'm just getting started!" BD really knew what he was doing, and he knew that as much as Steele protested, he was diggin' the manpussy massage. But BD also knew that beating a man sometimes takes subtlety, so he didn't want to get all in the cop's face about how he knew the cop was enjoyin' bein' a butt bitch. That would just make him resist for real. No, he'd play along, until the cop was so deep in his power he would do anything to cum.
And he was progressing very nicely along that path. The cop had stopped resisting and BD was now working his finger in and out of the man's hairy butthole, and the cop was even, ever so slightly, starting to fuck BD's finger back. Not obviously enough for any of his crew to notice, but BD could feel the man's butthole lurching back, following the finger as it retracted, and from time to time he would clench slightly if he thought the finger was pulling out too quickly. BD smiled to himself, thinking, this white boy thinks he's gonna just ride it out - like, REALLY ride it out. Well, then - I'm gonna make sure he remembers the ride.
"Well, I felt something, but it was just this bitch's little g-spot. Still haven't found no concealed weapon! Gonna need to go deeper. Deeper than my poor ol' finger can go."
He could feel Steele clench tight again with that little bit of news, so he slapped the cop's ass and he loosened up.
"Rico, get me this pig's nightstick!" BD commanded.
"NOOO!" yelled Steele, trying to stand up, but one of the big bruiser bodyguards him firmly by one of his bound forearms, and forced him down hard on the table by wrenching his wrists up toward the middle of his back and pushing down hard. "Please don't do that, man. You'll tear me open!" Steele was suddenly pleading with BD as if he were an abusive lover. BD smiled. He was taking control of this pig just as he had planned.
"Shut up, pig. How many black men have had their holes torn open by being sent to prison by pigs like you?"
Steele said nothing but just lowered his head to the table, bracing for the worst.
But BD knew that, prepared for the worst, the cop would be pleasantly - too pleasantly, he hoped - surprised by just how damn good BD could make getting buttfucked by a nightstick feel. This cop was ripe for it. He couldn't help himself. He needed release already. He didn't even seem to know that he was enjoying this way more than a straight man should.
BD knew this was gonna be a big step, but he had discovered his own secret weapon for unmanning the stud cop - the man's tits were incredibly sensitive, and the cop was unprepared to resist someone who knew how to milk them. The thug lord greased up the pig's nightstick with the lube and worked it teasingly in between the helpless cop's hairy buns, until it was pressing up against his tight bunghole. He twirled it slowly, with just the right amount of pressure, against the entrance to the pig's pussy. Then, slowly lifting the cop's left pec from the table, he gently squeezed and pulled on his nipple.
Steele stifled a moan but couldn't resist an involuntary shudder of pleasure. This kid was working his nipple like a radio dial, the volume in his pleasure center increasing until it was moving past ten. He felt the rounded edge of the nightstick stretching his tight ass. It hurt a little but Steele was overwhelmed by the sensation coming from his nipple. He relaxed as much as he could and BD slowly worked the baton in about a half inch when it popped out again. The thug worked more lube around the cop's hairy hole, then put the nightstick right back against the tight opening and once again twisted it back and forth and worked it up and down until he punctured Steele's manhole again. This time he worked it in about an inch and very gently continued to twist and pump until another half inch had been gained. All the while BD had been gently squeezing and tugging Steele's left nipple to a rock hard erection half an inch long. He then started flicking his fingertip teasingly over the top of the prostrate cop's erect nipple, then started pulling the nipple over and letting it bounce back up. Steele could feel himself leaking precum and he started moaning uncontrollably. BD pulled the nightstick out about an inch and then forced it in quickly as far as it would go.
When the nightstick slid in up to Steele's prostate it didn't hurt at all - fuck no, just the opposite! He couldn't help it, but damnit, it felt great! Steele couldn't believe it. The thug even started fucking his ass for real with the stick, much more than he had done with his finger, working it in and out and around and around in a circular motion, and still it felt as good as if he were getting a blowjob. The combination of getting his nipple and prostate and sphincter massaged all at once was even more pleasurable than getting a blowjob! He couldn't believe how good it felt. As much as he liked to be the macho cop, as much as he liked to be on top, to be the sexual aggressor, the man fucking the bitch... he had never felt so much pleasure as now, when he had submitted and let himself be fucked. And not even by a dominatrix but by another man! The thought humiliated and repulsed him, but the pleasure was taking over so totally that he just put it out of his mind as something he would deal with once he was out of the hands of these thugs, home safe again. For now, he would just give in.
BD felt Steele go limp, totally submitting to having his ass ravaged. He knew it was time. He worked the nightstick over the cop's prostate one more time, then shoved it in just a little harder. Then he let go of it and slid both hands under the cop's chest. Leaning over him and whispering in his ear, he started running his hands through the thick mass of fur until he located the nipples, then started working them together, gently at first, then a bit rougher, until he was twisting them and pulling at them and the cop just kept moaning louder and louder - moaning with pleasure.
"God you the hottest white man I ever seen, bitch," BD whispered in his ear. "Yo' hot body, yo' hairy chest, yo' handsome face, yo' giant balls. You fuckin' gorgeous, man!" It wasn't in BD's nature to praise a bitch like this, but it was all part of his plan. Looking at Steele's body he guessed that the man was pretty vain about it, and would be turned on by it being fulsomely praised. Maybe Steele was that kind of straight man so into his own looks that you wondered if he maintained his face and body to attract women or so he could look at himself in a mirror when they was fuckin'. Some of those guys, you wondered if they really cared about the woman at all, or just the woman's reaction to the guy's own body. Or maybe the hotter the woman they fucked, the more it was a vindication of their own masculine hotness. Whatever. BD was young, but he'd seen a lot.
Steele only responded by moaning louder. Yeah, the bitch was diggin' it, all right. BD then worked his way over Steele's abs, massaging them, whispering praises of them in Steele's ear, but he didn't linger. He quickly worked his way lower, lower, over the hairy navel, and then... he felt it. The tip of Steele's cock. And it was hard as a rock. The head had slipped halfway out of the foreskin; BD pulled the skin sheath down off the head completely and wrapped his fist just under the glans and gripped tight.
"I found it!" BD shouted triumphantly. "And it feels hard as... um. steel ha ha ha... and it's got a long barrel! Not no snub nose little Glock here!" Standing up and to Steele's right as his bodyguards let go of the cop and moved out of the way, he pulled Steele to his feet, nightstick still firmly wedged in the lawman's ass, and forced him to turn around, all with a swift yank on the cop's rock hard cock and the bellowed command, "On your feet bitch."
Momentarily stunned, Steele looked down at his engorged cock and turned beet-red. Somehow these bastards had forced queer sex on him, and made him enjoy it! He looked around and those of the thug crew who weren't laughing at him were smirking. "I knew you was a faggot soon as I saw your nipples, bitch! You made em that way for some queer reason," said Rico. Steele started to protest but the others just laughed at him and shouted him down.
"What you worried about bitch?" asked BD eventually. "You showed these muthas you got more than a white boy pinky dick, did'n you? Like, you straight and you's just tryin' to show us up, right boy?"
Steele had been consoling himself with the same thought, but coming from BD it now just sounded as ridiculous as Rico suggested he had enlarged his own nips. He burned with embarrassment and looked down at his feet, but he was just confronted with his engorged member and reminded of his shame and confusion all over again. How had this thug made him enjoy being treated like a queer? What had they done to him?
"Well, I was looking for your concealed piece, and I found it. I knew if I poked around your tight little mancunt long enough I'd find it! And it's a nice one, you boys gotta admit. How long is it, boy, seven and a half inches?"
Steele didn't answer but just glared at the thug prince, too humiliated to speak. He started to mumble something but BD cut him off.
"Oh come on, man," said BD, "I KNOW you been measurin' this thing since you were twelve years old."
"Eight." he said in a low growl. "Eight and a quarter inches," he corrected himself.
"Hmmph," said Rico skeptically. Some of the others grunted their disbelief as well. "If you's eight inches, you's bigger than every man here but BD and me."
"He bigger than you, too, Rico," BD said, laughing.
"Bullshit," said Rico.
"Yeah," said the others, continuing to mock the "white pinky dick."
"Let's see em, then boys," said BD. "I KNOW you all are enjoyin' this bitch's show as much as I am, so you gonna be flyin' yo' flags at full mast. Show the nice officer your own toy guns now."
Scowling and grumbling, the four men dropped their baggy jeans and boxers. To a man they all had throbbing erections. BD told them all to put their dicks up next to his pet cop's. They were all shorter, especially the big bodyguards, one of whom was about six inches and the other with a real pinky dick half the size of Steele's. Rico's however, was almost as long as Steele's and was thicker. Then BD dropped his trousers and Steele's jaw dropped open. The thug's dick must have ten inches long and much thicker than that of any other man present, and like his own and Rico's, it was uncut.
"Well, you all can thank BD for uncoverin' a large weapon on this man, after a VERY thorough and pro-fess-ional search!" BD said, praising himself in the third person. "Don't that thing look dangerous to you?"
"If I was the one in handcuffs, maybe," admitted Rico. "But I think you got it under control, BD."
"Well, maybe," admitted BD, who had pulled out a large knife and was playing with it as he stroked with his own cock. "But I still think we oughta disarm him, don't you?" he asked wickedly, as he slid the flat of the blade under Steele's throbbing dick, at the juncture of the cop's cock and ballsac, then flipped it 90 degrees back and forth, so that it was one moment perpendicular to the top of the ballsac, the next perpendicular to the base of the cock, message being that it could slice both ways just as easily.
Steele gulped and held his breath. Was this thug threatening to castrate him? Somehow, even this threat didn't make his engorged cock subside, but his heart was pumping wildly and his armpits were sweating like crazy.
BD just laughed and toyed with the blade, now poking away menacingly under Steele's balls. "Yeah, we gotta disarm this bitch." Then he put the knife away and, cradling the plump balls in his left hand and gently squeezing them, he said, "Gotta empty his chamber." With his right hand he grabbed Steele's cock and, standing to the side, started masterfully stroking the cop's throbbing dick even as he pumped his fat balls. "Stand out of the way, I'm going to empty this boy until he can't even shoot blanks!" The gang all laughed and moved to the side, watching the cop in a semicircle.
After about a minute, BD pretended to get bored. "Come on, Officer, shoot! I wanna see how many shots you got in you! I know what to do - Kid, pull that nightstick out. Slowly." The musclebound bodyguard with the four-inch dick stood behind Steele and, as he was ordered, slowly removed the nightstick. Steele was surprised to find he was unhappy to feel the makeshift dildo removed from his ass. The pressure on his sphincter and prostate had been extremely pleasurable.
"Rico," BD commanded. "We need a target. Like we had on that banker who tried to fuck us. Remember?"
Rico snorted and walked over to a table loaded with cans of spray paint. He picked up a small can of red Krylon and walked behind Steele. "I got the fast drying kind," he said, then began spraying what the cold spray on his ass told him was three concentric circles around his butthole. BD expressed impatience, but Rico protested that the cop's excessively hairy and rounded ass made for a hard target. "Just so long as it's a well-marked target," said BD, "I think we'll be hard enough for it ha ha ha." When Rico was done he blew on Steele's buns to make sure the paint was dried. Then he spread the asscheeks open and blew his hot breath on the cop's bunghole. The effect was like a pleasurable jolt of electricity. Steele felt himself squirm involuntarily with the pleasurable sensation.
"Now, Kid, you got a nice clear target to hit with your own pistol. Stick it up his pig ass." The big man-boy put the tip of his small but well lubed cock at the entrance to Steele's manpussy and, holding on to Steele's hairy pecs for a grip, slowly worked it into Steele's tight chute. It wasn't as big around as the nightstick had been; hell it was probably only as thick as a hot dog. But it felt good all the same.
"Now slowly start to pump in and out. This boy's dirty barrel needs a good reaming I think." The big bodyguard started slowly pumping, as he was commanded, then pumped into the copy harder and harder, but no matter how hard he thrust he couldn't seem to reach Steele's prostate. "You ain't hittin' the bitch's g-spot, Kid," BD said when he saw that Steele wasn't in the ecstatic state he'd been in when his prostate was massaged by BD himself. "His nipples. Start playing with his nipples." For such a big guy, Kid was surprisingly tender in his handling of the cop's man-tits, treating them perhaps a little too gently, but in his present state Steele could hardly complain. BD was masterfully working his cock and balls, stopping whenever he sensed the cop might be ready to come.
"Good job, Kid, but maybe we need to pump deeper. Arjay, you're next up!"
Kid withdrew reluctantly, grumbling that he didn't get to shoot, but BD assured him he would get his shot, literally.
Arjay quickly took Kid's place with his six incher - maybe too quickly, as his rough insertion was somewhat painful for Steele, at least at first. Even so, after Steele adjusted, he found that Arjay too was less thick around than the nightstick had been, and he didn't fill Steele as pleasantly as the nightstick had. But he was long enough to hit Steele's prostate, and this sent waves of pleasure surging through the cop's body. Then, like his predecessor, he started massaging Steele's nipples, but in a different manner. He grabbed Steele's firm hairy pecs in his big paws and squeezed and massaged them, letting his grip slide across the firm muscle until he hit the soft nipples, and these he squeezed and massaged with the same force.
All the while, BD's manipulation of Steele had continued, but now he sensed the cop was about to come. BD wasn't ready for that yet. At the same time, Arjay announced he couldn't hold it any longer, but BD said, "You better hold it boy. Time for your replacement. Pokey, you up."
Arjay groaned but withdrew as he was ordered. He really needed to come bad. He just stood there clenching his hard dick as if trying to prevent himself from coming. Steele was moaning with the need to release, too. BD smiled. All these bitches totally under his thumb. As always.
The heretofore nameless second shooter, the quiet one, "Pokey", stepped up. Steele had estimated this guy's dick had been about an inch shorter than his own, and it was about as thick as a link sausage. True to form, he got to work without saying a word, and Steele could feel his asshole being slowly breached by the quiet gunman's dick. He tentatively reached for Steele's nips and stroked them very lightly, as if he were petting butterflies on their wings. This drove Steele wild. He ground his ass against the invading cock even as Pokey drove it in. For a quiet guy with a gentle touch, Pokey was an aggressive assfucker. He started slow, but within a minute he was pounding Steele's asshole, enjoying the feel of his hips slamming the hairy buttmuscles, and the macho sensation of his own balls slamming the cop's bigger cojones around like two fat bitches being slapped by their pimp.
BD worked Steele's cock more slowly now, keeping his captive in a state of delirious but frustratingly unfulfilled ecstasy. When he sensed Pokey was ready to blow, he ordered him off of the cop and ordered Rico to take his place.
Rico had been awaiting his turn excitedly, stroking his meat to keep it hard right in front of the lawman, making mock threats about what he was going to do to the cop's helpless mancunt. Steele by now was so far gone he welcomed the taunts secretly, although he mouthed defiant, silent "fuck you's" to the mulatto stud.
Rico now put his long, thick cock at the entrance to Steele's bunghole and pushed, but the hole was tighter than he expected. His was the first of the crew's cocks to actually be thicker than the nightstick, and Steele was not as loosened up as everyone expected him to be by now. Both men sweated and grunted and groaned as Rico forced his cock into the quivering ass of the once proud, once straight cop. Rico grabbed hold of the lawman's hairy buttmuscles in his large hands, squeezing, pulling, digging his nails into the man's muscular cheeks as he slowly worked his long, thick cock deeper, until he hit the magic button of Steele's prostate and then poked at the male g-spot until the stud cop groaned like a baritone bitch.
While not as erotically electric as nippleplay, the rough assault on his asscheeks touched a profoundly erotic psychological trigger in Steele's mind, as he felt ever more the stud that he had always played but secretly doubted he really was. Not now. Hell, he was man enough to take being gangbanged by a bunch of black thugs! What guy on the force had ever had to endure more? His muscular ass was defying the worst these punks threw at him. In some twisted way, he felt more manly being used like this than he ever had aggressively fucking some soft, warm cunt. And yet at the same time, he felt like a punk, a bitch. Sexual pleasure battled with anger in his mind. He wasn't sure what to think so he just gave in to the sensations flooding his ass, his dick, and his by now swollen balls. If he could just come, he thought, he could sort all this out. Without the confusion of the inexplicable pleasure he was feeling, he could gather his wits and handle these punks with the brutality they deserved, outgunned and outmanned though he may have been.
Well, it may have been five to one, but Steele didn't really feel outmanned - not by these jokers. No, he didn't feel outmanned until BD ordered a reluctant, grumbling Rico to withdraw and the thug prince stood in front of Steele waving his own huge dick. When he slid it next to Steele's own cock, he saw that he had seriously underestimated how well hung the kid was. It dwarfed his own dick, in both length and girth. He looked like a boy next to BD. Outmanned? Yes. Outgunned? Definitely.
BD rubbed it in. "So, my boys is all impressed with the size of your concealed weapon, but don't get a big head, boy. THIS," he said as he pulled his foreskin down to reveal a shiny pinkish brown glans about 3 inches long, "is a big head! And you gonna get IT."
Steele gulped and then, without realizing he was saying it, said "Yes, sir."
BD eyes opened wide but he just laughed and said, "That's right, boy. Yes, sir to me. You think you a big man because you took all my crew? You think you big enough for me? Cuz I'M a big man." He shook the massive cock as he said this.
"Bring it on," grumbled Steele defiantly (and yet with a hint of longing), but inside his guts were like the warm jelly he thought BD's dick might turn his sphincter into.
BD ordered Kid to his knees to milk Steele's cock and balls, then he went behind Steele and placed his huge cockhead at the opening to Steele's mangina. He grabbed the stud cop's hairy, meaty left pecs in one hand as leverage and with his right hand positioned the cock head and tried to work it in. Despite the pleasure emanating from his nipple, cock, and balls, the pain of BD's attempted assault on his asshole made Steele howl and he even started to lose his erection. Kid quickly worked it back to steel-hardness (with assistance from BD's mantit ma-nip-ulation). BD leaned over and whispered in Steele's ear, "You a stud, man. You can take this. Just relax." Steele whispered back, "Yes, sir," again stunning himself with the extent to which he had surrendered his manhood to this young thug.
But finally, after about five minutes of sweat, tears (a few involuntary ones from Steele), and yes, blood (and a lot of spit and lube), BD had forced his massive cockhead past the tight muscle ring of Steele's sphincter and into his mancunt with an audible squishy pop. But he was stuck. He could feel the stud cop's body trembling with pain and bracing for more, and he felt like his dick was being crushed. He pushed and the macho cop howled with pain. He pulled back just a little bit and the cop moaned even louder. He didn't want it like this. He believed his triumph was based on forcing the cop to love being his bitch. And up to this point, he'd succeeded. He grabbed the cop's muscular hairy buns and, pushing them away from himself as hard as he could, pulled his cockhead free of the iron grip of Steele's too-tight manpussy with another audible, squishy pop. Steele howled again, but in addition this time lowered his head in a kind of defeat. BD had beaten him again. The kid was too much man for him.
"Well, you one tough muthafucka, bitch, but even you's not tough enough fo' BD," the thug prince boasted. "You're the one giving up, kid," Steele said in a low voice, almost a whisper, a mix of defiance and something else - like he was begging for release, but of what kind it wasn't clear.
But BD wasn't giving up - not on forcing the stud cop to learn to love being queered anyhow. He sauntered up to the cop again and took over massaging his cock and balls, at the same time commanding Pokey to work his nipples from behind. Steele's erection, which had subsided a bit with BD's painful failed attempt to fuck him, quickly grew hard and straight as an iron pipe again. "I think we cleaned his barrel good, boys. Now let's empty his chamber," he said, aggressively milking the cop's swollen nuts.
With his ass no longer on fire, but tingling from the final assault, his nipples being worked as if they were hot buttons wired to his pleasure center, his foreskin being pumped expertly, and his balls being massaged delicately, Steele knew he was now on the verge of coming and he could no longer control it. BD stepped to the side but kept milking the cop's oversize genitals without missing a beat. "Stand back, men - this white boy is about to shoot!" And then - shoot he did. The first ejaculation shot out three feet from his body as Steele moaned with a pleasure he'd never felt before, but it was quickly followed by a second, a third, a fourth, and then a little dribbling fifth as BD squeezed the last drops of manjuice from first his balls and then his cock head. His member, finally spent, collapsed, dangling from the thick brown thatch of the lawman's crotch like a strangled snake.
BD wiped his hands off on Steele's hairy pecs, then stuck his fingers in Steele's mouth and ordered him to clean the rest of his own cum off the thug's fingers. Steele tried weakly to resist, then eventually gave in, although it was clear that the taste and idea of his own cum made him queasy. Having finally been allowed to cum, it was clear that Steele was having serious second thoughts about having been so easily queered.
"Ha ha, men, I think we can safely say that Officer Studly Do-right is all out of ammunition. But it took five shots to empty him. Now it's your turn to shoot - at him! One hundred bucks to anyone who can hit him in the face while he's standing." The crew, laughing contemptuously at their captive again and eager to win the bet, formed a literal circular firing squad and began pumping furiously. No longer forced by their boss to hold their orgasms in check, the men all unloaded in a few minutes. None managed to hit Steele in the face, although Rico managed to spray all over his hairy chest and abs. Last to come was BD himself, who, moving in for the kill, stood up on his toes and aimed at Steele's handsome face. He arched his back and moaned as a large plume of spunk shot from his cock, which as long as it was, was that much closer to Steele's chiseled mug. The cum landed in Steele's hair, on the right side of his face, on his nose, on his lips, and dribbled down his chin. A second shot landed on Steele's torso. The third and final one barely reached the thick brown nest of his crotch, which was already crowned with the spunk of every other member of BD's crew.
BD stepped right up to Steele and smeared the cum dripping from his forehead, cheek, and chin all over the cop's already-cum-covered lips, then forced the abused man's mouth open with his probing fingers and ordered him to eat his own cum. Steele complied, his face crumpled up in distaste. BD then smeared the cum on the cop's torso all through his thick chest hair, and scooped up little pools of the slimy yet sticky manseed and used it as lubricant as worked over the cop's nipples once again. BD then bent over and licked and sucked the cop's seed off the oversized nipples as his men stared in disbelief. BD had never, ever eaten cum - his own, or any other man's. That would have been too queer, they all felt. But if BD did it, then it was cool. As BD sucked, Steele's dick got hard again. Without ever stopping his sucking, biting, and licking, BD reached down and started pumping the cop-cock until he shot another very weak load, after which the cop collapsed to his knees in front of BD.
BD walked over to a drawer and pulled out a rag. Steele assumed he was going to wipe the cum off himself, maybe off Steele as well. "Take him to the showers in back and hose him down, dry him off, and put him back in his cop costume," BD ordered.
"Thanks for letting me go, BD," Steele mumbled gratefully. "I promise no one on the force will ever hear of any of this. Hell, it would be way too much for me to explain," even to myself, Steele thought. "I... I'm going to move to a different precinct, maybe get out of vice, whatever. You won't have to deal with me again."
BD just stared at him awestruck and then started to laugh. "Let you go? You high, boy? You cost me a dozen whores over the years and now I got me a good way to make back some of that money. You wouldn't believe how much I can get for a honest to God muscle cop whore! Ever heard that payback is a bitch? Oh yeah, boy! Sho' is!"
Now it was Steele's turn to look dumbstruck. "I... you..." he stuttered.
"What?" BD asked in a mocking tone. "Did you think my treatin' you tender was 'cause we're boyfriends? Ha ha, bitch, I just knew that the way to bust yo' balls was like with honey, not vinegar. And you is busted, cop! You busted! That cage? You gonna learn what prison life is like, bitch! You gonna work off your debt to society, society being BD and his crew, right in my own jail."
"You bastard!" Steele raged, then struggled to his feet, ready to do his damnedest to flee or fight, handcuffed or not. But BD just walked up to him and gently wiped the cum from his stubbled cheeks and chin with the rag, then quickly forced the rag over the cop's nose and mouth. He caught Steele's body as it crumpled to the floor. That old ether-covered rag trick, coupled with fake tenderness, worked every time.
BD bent over and uncuffed Steele, then called over his boys to pull off his boots and trousers. He handed the clothing to Kid and told him to gather up the shirt and hat and get the entire cop uniform washed and dried, and the button sewn back on and the rip fixed. He stopped to pick up the cop's badge to hand it to Kid as well, but he just looked at it and smiled and kept it. "Now get this pig hosed off and when you get him dried, put him in one of the orange jumpsuits and toss him in the cage," BD proclaimed loudly. "He gonna see how the other half lives now."
BD talked tough, but Rico could see him staring with a lot of lust and a bit of tenderness at the handsome cop. He knew when his boss was smitten. And why the hell not? The guy was one fuckin' hot stud, even if he was a white boy. But BD was an abusive lover and sooner or later that giant dick would be wrecking that cop's tight manpussy. Rico knew from experience, as all the gang did. Getting fucked by BD was the final test to join the gang. (Well, technically it was getting fucked by the guy with the biggest dick, but that had always been BD.) BD'd probably make that cop regret ever thinking he was "man enough" to take BD's tool. No, he didn't envy this pig what BD had in store for him, whether BD was crushin' on him or not.
(To Be Continued)